


Point it Home

by fitslikeakey



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Earn Your Happy Ending, F/M, Future-fic, Romance, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-03-30 03:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 69,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitslikeakey/pseuds/fitslikeakey
Summary: Tessa packed up a single suitcase and walked out of Scott's life with his sweatshirt, his favorite hockey stick, and his heart. Six years later, she's a successful fashion designer running a small empire in New York, while Scott is in Montreal, operating as the most successful Juniors Ice Dance coach of all time.He's over it, he swears, but somehow it still only takes a thirty second video to send him running back to her.The Tessa Virtue he finds is not what he expected. And there's more.





	1. I Don't Know You

The only thing he's worried about at the beginning of the night is whether or not Cameron is going to finish her speech.   
  
She's only sixteen and incredibly eloquent, but she has an anxious heart. She's been reciting it over and over while skating laps around the rink all week. Her partner Noah has been trying to calm her down, but as always, ends up absorbing some of her nerves himself, and coaching them this week has almost been like the week leading up to Junior Worlds all over again.   
  
He spends the thirty minutes before the banquet reassuring her out in the lobby, the other junior girls with their arms around her on a long bench. At five minutes until six, Marie-France ushers all the girls in, muttering under her breath about the rude woman that is hosting the event for them and won't stop flirting with Patrice.   
  
She stops to whisper to Scott. "Can you go to the men's changing room and tell Noah it's safe to come out? I think Cameron scared him."   
  
Scott chuckles, then jogs over to the side room that the male skaters had used to change into their more formalwear so they could come straight from the rink after practice. The room is messy, black and navy skates scattered all over on top of sweatshirts, scarves, and empty hanging bags for suits. Noah is lurking in the corner on a footstool, frantically texting on his phone.   
  
"It's banquet time, buddy," Scott says, crossing the room in a few strides and patting the blonde teenager.   
  
"She's going to be the death of me," Noah says, standing up. His tie is only technically on, and he attempts to fix it with no success. "I don't know how you did this for twenty years, Cam and I may not even make it ten."   
  
"Of course you will," Scott grins, reaching over to help him with his tie. "because I know the sick truth. She's your best friend. And no matter how much she irritates you with her pop music and her obsession with Miley Cyrus’ baby and her kitten GIFs, you love her."  
  
Noah groans. "Yeah, you're right. I hate that you're right." Scott finishes his tie, and he buttons his suit as they start walking towards the main hall. "I just wish she understood how great she is, you know? She has nothing to worry about."   
  
Scott smiles again. "I get it, trust me. But you're her partner. She gets to rely on you for that. That's how it's supposed to be." 

 

* * *

 

  
  
As they walk through the back entrance of the hall, they part ways. Noah sits down at a table in the middle next to a visibly terrified Cameron, taking her hand immediately as he sits down and squeezing it. Scott crosses to the other side close to the stage, where Marie-France, Patrice, and the other coaches are already seated.   
  
The banquet goes smoothly. The juniors perform a short skit about their year that Scott helped them write, and Matt, the male in his older American team, does a remarkably accurate impression of Scott's erratic coaching behavior at 5 am. Cameron's speech is beautiful, because of course it is, and she keeps her eyes darting between her parents and Scott the entire time, all sending her reassuring smiles. It doesn't escape Scott's attention that Noah is standing next to her the whole time, one hand holding hers tightly.  
  
Scott's mind starts to wander during the year-review of the seniors, who he works with only sporadically. There's a particularly entertaining speech about Romain that has the whole crowd rolling with laughter, and a presentation to the Spanish team that have just won Senior Worlds. Finally, Marie-France and Patrice stand up for their annual thank you to the coaches, and Scott starts to run through his own speech as the designated representative to present the coaches' gift back to them.   
  
After the coaches have all accepted their gifts, though, Marie-France and Patrice remain at the podium. Patrice speaks "Before we wrap up the evening, we felt it necessary to mention one last event of the year." His eyes flicker to Scott, who feels a sudden burst of nerves of his own. "You see, it's been twenty years since Scott Moir entered my wife's and my life. When we met him, he was a cocky 18 year old just entering the senior ranks, and clearly the ego got the best of him and he never made the most of his career." Scott laughs along with the skaters and their families, though a light blush covers his cheeks. "14 years later, he finally decided to give some other skaters a chance and joined our coaching team, and for the last six years, he has been the best Juniors coach in the world. So Scott, just to say how grateful we are, this one is for you."   
  
The room darkens and a video begins. It's the same grainy footage people have been using for years of their first competition back in 1997. Images of competitions from the time they were growing up are peppered in with video of him coaching other skaters, as well as interviews from across nearly thirty years. Noah and Cam make an appearance, commenting on his dedication to making ice dance both a sport and an art; Matt and Fatima for being a great coach and making them feel welcome in a foreign Montreal. Marie and Patch make their own comments about how great it has been watching him become a man. The music starts to fade, and Scott starts to relax as the 2018 Pyeongchang free skate starts playing.   
  
"I met Scott a long, long time ago," a voice begins, and all at once Scott's insides have shredded themselves into bits.   
  
_Dark hair, falling only to her shoulders._  
  
His eyes flash to Patch at the podium in shock before locking on the face on the screen. "He was the best skating partner anyone could possibly have asked for, supportive, empowering, kind, and strong."   
  
_Vivid green eyes, crinkles in the corner where it used to be smooth._  
  
"He was a great coach before he ever took it as a job, and I watched him inspire dozens of young skaters across Canada and the world into being the best athletes they can be."  
  
_Head tilted slightly to the left as if it's being pulled- she's not getting enough sleep._  
  
"But as wonderful as his skating career was, he's an even better person."  
  
_Red lips, the lower tucked in slightly, the way she always does when she's being careful with her words._  
  
"Gadbois is so lucky to have him, just as I was lucky for so many years to be alongside him in our career."   
  
_Freckles dotted along her face, no longer frantically hidden by their owner._  
  
"Congratulations, Scott, we are all so proud of you."   
  
_A small smile at the end, because she's unsure if what she’s saying is okay._  
  
Tessa. 

 

* * *

 

  
  
He's frozen to his seat through the goodbyes, through one of the specialty coaches giving Scott’s speech to Marie and Patch for him, through all of the applause from families, to the departure of all the skaters, eagerly awaiting a few weeks off. The waiters have bussed the tables, and are beginning to tear down the tables themselves. Patch walks back into the room, having seen off the last of the families, and pulls a chair off a stack, sitting down backwards next to Scott, looking faintly as if he's been punched in the face. He waits for Scott to talk.  
  
It's a full ten minutes later when Scott finally regains control of his motor functions. "I have not- I can't think- I haven't heard her voice in 6 years," he gets out.   
  
Patch pats him on the arm. "I know," he says. "Marie talks to her every few months."   
  
Scott is staring at blank screen where Tessa's face had appeared. "She's in New York, isn't she.”

  
"Yes."   
  
"And she's not happy."   
  
"We don't think so." Patch doesn't ask him how he immediately knows this information, nor does he sound surprised.   
  
"Does she ask about me?"   
  
"Every call. Without fail."   
  
Scott stands up and Patch rises from his seat to match him. His shoulders are straight, and he looks more at peace than Patch has seen him in years. It’s that thought that makes Patch absolutely certain of what he is going to say next.   
  
"I have to go see her."

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Okay Tessa, I’m sorry I ever doubted you, you were right. From now on, I will always let you plan our executive retreats. This whole cabin-in-the-woods idea was absolutely brilliant, almost as brilliant as my idea to hide extra wine in the trunk where you couldn’t find it. You are, without a doubt, the best partner ever.” Natalia proclaims as she drops her suitcase in the trunk of the car.

“See, that’s why we’re partners, to keep _Virtue and Muldoon_ working on all cylinders,” Tessa says with a smile.

“Teamwork makes the dreamwork?” Natalia questions, and Tessa shakes her head, giggling. “Seriously though, those dress designs for the collection with Zambia were absolutely stunning. I can’t wait for the production team to get their hands on them.”

Tessa agrees, and they climb in their green rental SUV to head back to the city. Natalia is riding shotgun, her dark-skinned legs propped up on Tessa’s dashboard. She starts the trip with a 90s playlist that they karaoke to for nearly an hour on their trip back from upstate New York. The air is warm, even for spring, and they have to crack the windows of the SUV to fully appreciate it. “Our next trip is to somewhere in Indonesia, right?”

“Yeah, I forget what the area is though. Still, it’ll be an interesting change of pace for us. Our first non-African-inspired line.”

“As long as we can figure out how to make the timing work, the dates are at a really weird time this year. I’ve got to figure out how to coordinate the whole month of September with the schedule of the…”

“Nuh uh, no ma’am,” Natalia cuts her off. “I believe you are about to bring up something that relates to something else back in New York and we are still on our design plan weekend, there is no city life talk until we set foot back in the actual city. I am not driving and so my last glass of wine has not worn off yet and so I am not ready to think about that yet.”

“You’re right, sorry.” Tessa says, grinning as she faces the road.

“Now if you wanted to talk about Theo….”

“Tallie, _no…_ ”

Natalia holds her hands up in mock surrender, but Tessa knows she’s not done yet. “All I’m saying is if I were a cute Canadian lady who hadn’t seen some action in God knows how long, I might be interested in the incredibly dashing New York Ranger who proudly is an ambassador for a fashion line that doesn’t even make clothes for his gender.”

“He’s so young!”

“He’s 32, you’re 36. Hardly cougar territory. Plus it means you could have another 6 or 7 years watching him punch men on the ice.”

Tessa groans. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation, now is _so_ not the time for me to be getting into a new relationship.”

Natalia sets a hand on her arm, her tone softening. “When will it be, then, Tessa? When are you going to decide you deserve to be happy?”

Her grip on the steering wheel tightens, and a hundred memories start flooding through the back of her brain like a river. “I am happy,” she says firmly.

Natalia snorts.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Scott’s not entirely sure that the last 24 hours have happened. He knows that he went to the banquet. He knows that Patch and Marie made a video about him that started to make him blubber like a baby before throwing Tessa Virtue in his face and immediately destroying the delicate framework that has been his mind for the past several years. He has a vague memory of Patch apologizing profusely and the pair of them taking Scott home to sleep on their couch, and then taking him back to get his car the next morning. He definitely remembers Marie-France slipping him a Post-It note with the address of an apartment somewhere in Manhattan. He also somewhat remembers throwing clothes in a suitcase and getting back in his car, and crossing the border into the US about an hour later.

He makes it to Manhattan a little after six in the evening, when the sun is just starting to set and the air feels just a little more crisp. He already has a hotel booked just a few blocks from the address that Marie-France had given him, and so he finds a garage to drop his car off at and drags his suitcase the remainder of the distance to the hotel. By the time he’s checked in and found a sandwich to eat, it’s nearly nine.

The relative lateness of the hour for a Sunday evening doesn’t begin to stop him. He’s like a machine, following his phone’s directions to the elegant brownstone on the corner of a relatively quiet city street.

He makes it up to the correct door, somehow. It’s the cleanest and best-painted of the three entrances he has seen so far and it’s not even close.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

At first, he hears nothing and a part of him is relieved, relieved that he can go back to his car and his quiet life that he has built for himself in Montreal, with his junior teams that he absolutely adores and his favorite bar and his sweet dog who is probably very confused to be at the kennel right now.

But then, a few seconds pass and he hears footsteps. The door swings open and he stares.

“Scott?” She says, her mouth dropping open.

“Tessa.”

For a moment, he can’t believe she’s really standing there. She is as beautiful as she’s always been. Her hair, still the dark shade that had become her signature during their Olympic years, is tied up at the back of her head in an elegant knot. She’s wearing black leggings under a white cotton t-shirt, and has a green sweatshirt tied around her waist. She’s visibly exhausted.

And, of course, she's still the most beautiful woman Scott’s ever seen.

Her eyes pierce holes into his own, before sliding over the rest of him; his red Gadbois pullover jacket that he had thrown on that morning before running out the door, his old dark-washed jeans that two of the younger coaches had told him more than once made his “ass look like a snack”, and a pair of brand-new Converse he’d purchased two weeks before because he’d worn literal holes into the bottoms of the old ones. His hair is a mess as usual, the ends curled up against his neck, two months past due for a haircut, and as her mouth drops open ever so slightly further, he nervously runs his fingers through the ends of his hair.

Scott clears his throat. “I-uh…I got your message. At the banquet, about my twenty-year anniversary with Marie and Patch.” She’s still visibly in shock, so he continues. “I just started thinking about you, and then I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and well….here I am.”

Tessa has a death grip on the door handle, and her eyes tell him that she did not expect his sudden arrival to be his response to the video. Almost instinctively, she follows a trick that one of their mental preparation coaches had once taught them, watching the movement of his chest up and down and trying to copy it to calm herself down. If Scott notices, he doesn’t respond.

“You’re here,” she says in a breathy voice she hasn’t heard out of herself in years. “In New York.”

Scott takes a step back, interpreting her surprise in a negative way. “I’m not here to get in your way, or anything, I’m just in New York, and thought maybe you would want to get a coffee and talk sometime in the next couple days?” Tessa finds herself bobbing her head up and down in agreement, despite the fact that a coffee is an almost laughably simplistic reunion for the two of them, and a weekend trip to Paris somehow seems more reasonable. “Great- that’s, that’s just great,” he says, almost to himself. “I’ll get out of your hair then, maybe come back tomorrow, or the next day…”

“Mommy, I finished my letters, can I have my dessert now?” Scott’s mouth snaps shut as a voice calls out from the apartment beyond Tessa. She visibly freezes, and a shiver goes all the way down Scott’s spine at the sight. Tessa steps further out into the hallway, letting the opening in the apartment door grow smaller and smaller, but remains silent. Her eyes are locked on his, and a shiver makes its way into his stomach as he sees a fearful look that has propelled him into action for nearly his entire life.

“Mommy,” the voice calls out again, stretching out the syllables. His mind is running with a thousand scenarios, a thousand possible explanations for the voice he’s just heard, all avoiding the one most obvious.

Another voice calls out. “Mommy please don’t let Trisha eat all the dessert, I’m almost finished with mine and she always takes the best chocolate before I get the chance.”

Scott’s eyes grow wider and wider, and Tessa looks as if she’s about to pass out. A group of footsteps sound from the apartment, and finally, Scott is faced with the sight of two small girls, each with an auburn-brown ponytail wrapped by a sparkly headband and soft green-brown eyes. He hasn’t seen hair that color since they were preteens just starting in Junior status- and he would know those small ears anywhere, he’s tucked long strands of hair under them for Tessa more times than could possibly counted, but their eyes, their _eyes._ They are the same eyes that Scott ran to whenever his brothers had teased him as a kid, or he’d had a particularly bad fall on the ice; the same eyes that he’s seen in the mirror every day of his life, eyes that convey an identity and a sense of family to him and always have.

“Mommy, didn’t you hear us? It’s chocolate time!” The girl standing closest to Tessa says with a grin, tugging on Tessa’s hand. The second girl mirrors her grin exactly.

Scott’s mind finally lands smack-dab in the middle of all the possibilities, and when it does, the fog that came over him when he first heard Tessa’s voice again is gone, the fog that’s been lingering in the corners of his mind since she got into a black rental car with one suitcase and tears in her eyes and walked out of his life is gone. His heart has violently lurched into place for the first time in six years, and his mind is clear.

Twins.

Tessa has twins.

Moir twins.


	2. Words Fall Through Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You probably have some questions. Scott sure does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the warm reaction! All the comments were so wonderful and positive. I can't wait to go on this journey with you :)

Scott’s mind may be clear, but Tessa’s losing complete track of hers. Her eyes are full of fear, darting between her daughters and Scott, opening and closing her mouth again. The girls are clearly confused by their mother’s strange behavior, and it is the one wearing a red sweater who finally breaks the silence, peering up at Scott with a curious look.

“Hello, are you here for dessert? Mommy only lets us have one chocolate each, but I bet she’d share an extra one with you.” Her eyes are innocent and eager.

“Trisha, Mommy said we’re not supposed to talk to strangers,” the other girl says, a more apprehensive expression on her face.

Tessa finally snaps out of her trance, squeezing the hand of the girl who had been called Trisha. “It’s okay, girls,” she says softly, still staring at her skating partner of twenty years. “This is not a stranger, this is a friend.”

The part of Scott’s heart that has just been transplanted back into place propels him to kneel so that he can look up to the girls, not aware of what he’s doing until words start coming out of his mouth. “Hi,” he says, holding out a hand. “I’m Scott, what are your names?”

The girl on the right looks up at her mother for approval and then sticks out her small hand to shake Scott’s carefully. “I’m Alma, but nobody calls me that.”

“Well I really like the name Alma, but I don’t want to be a nobody,” Scott says with a hint of a smile. “What should I call you?”

“Allie,” the girl says, puffing out her chest happily.

“I’m Patricia,” the more talkative of the girls says, letting go of her mother’s hand finally and grabbing Scott’s. “But I get called Trisha, or sometimes Trish, or sometimes Patricia Marie when I’m in big trouble.”

“Are you in big trouble a lot?” Scott asks, trying to ignore the pounding going on in his brain.

“No,” she says thoughtfully. “But one time I messed up my sheets and got no TV for a whole week.”

The corners of Tessa’s mouth lift up into a hint of a smirk. “I think you mean you cut up your sheets, Trisha,” she says.

“Why did you cut up your sheets?”

Tessa interrupts Trisha’s answer. “That is a good question to answer inside while we eat our dessert. Girls, will you grab exactly one chocolate for each of us and no more?” The girls nod excitedly and scamper away. Scott turns to Tessa, the glassy-eyed expression with which he’d looked at the girls still plain upon his face.

“I know you must have about a million questions,” she says in a low voice, willing herself to stay calm. “The girls will be headed to bed in forty-five minutes, can you wait until then?”

Scott’s mouth snaps shut, narrowing his eyes and finally nodding. Tessa opens the door, and he steps inside Tessa’s home for the first time in six years.

 

 

* * *

 

 

An hour later, Trisha and Allie have been tucked into bed, and Tessa pads back down the hallway of her apartment as if she’s headed towards her death. Scott is still sitting at the in the same position he’d been in when he’d wished the girls a good night’s sleep twenty minutes before; head tilted down, elbows propped on the glass of the table, fingers playing with a ribbon that Tessa tied around the vase of tulips she’d placed on the table four days before.

She sits down next to him silently, bracing herself for the worst. “Scott,” she starts, “I know you must be angry. You must feel betrayed and ignored and like time has been ripped away from you. You probably hate me, and you should. But I…”

“I’m not angry,” he says, eyes trained on the ribbon in his hands that is starting to fray. “I’m getting pretty close, but I’m not angry yet. I’m not hurt yet, either, though that’s definitely coming.” He’s speaking in a flat voice that Tessa had only ever heard him use with others when they were skating together, an emotionally detached voice that makes her so uneasy that she scoots her chair an inch away from him. “I think I’m just in a little bit of shock.” Tessa sniffs, nodding her head. “How did this happen, Tess?”

She takes a deep breath. “I found out two weeks after I got to New York,” she starts. “My mom had left a couple days before and I was scared and alone. I missed you so much it felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I was so, so determined to prove to myself that I didn’t need you. I knew I needed to tell you, but after the fight we had, I couldn’t imagine you wanting me back, and I was stupid and selfish and just wanted you to come to New York for me, not because you felt obligation. And God…when I found out I was having twins…” She swears under her breath.

“The day I told my mother was the day that she called me to tell me that your mother was gone.” Scott’s eyes flash up to hers. “I was five months pregnant already, and with twins, I already looked like a beached whale. I wanted to go to the funeral, believe me Scott, I adored your mother, but I thought that my showing up out of the blue and pregnant would only make it worse.”

Scott’s still staring at her expectantly, and she continues. “My mom never let me forget that I needed to tell you, if that helps even the tiniest amount. I honestly don’t know why she didn’t tell you herself, except that she knew what had happened between us. She moved down a month after I told her, and she’s been helping me take care of the girls ever since. She watches them most of the time when I’m working or traveling.”

“Do they know anything about me?” Scott spits out. “Do they know anything about their father, or even just the man you skated with for 22 years?” She’s silent. He glares at her with fierce eyes, and in her heart she feels herself finally acknowledging the wrong she’s done in the past six years, the trust that she’s forever broken. It hits her with a guilt that pierces her to the bone. “Jesus Christ, Tessa, do these girls even know you?”

“Stop,” she says defiantly, “that’s not fair.”

“Not fair,” he says, raising his voice, and she knows the anger has finally hit him. “No, not fair would be leaving your lifelong partner with no notice and then going radio silent for six years. Not fair would be running out on a relationship that barely had the chance to get started because of one stupid fight. Not _fair_ ,” he says, his voice cracking, “would be keeping the man you once claimed to love ignorant of the fact that he has _twin daughters_ , so that not only would he miss the first few years of their life, but they would also have no _fucking clue_ who he is.”

He stands up, the metal chair screeching loudly on the white kitchen tile as he backed away from the table. “I honestly have no idea what to do next, Tessa, if I should get a hotel, or call a lawyer, or the police or something, but you are not going to keep me from being those girls’ father. And I will do whatever I have to so I can make sure of that.”

“Scott, please,” she says desperately, reaching out and grabbing his arm. He jerks away from her as if her touch has burned him. “Give me a chance. I know I screwed up, I know you’re going to hate me forever but please give me a chance to make things right.” His eyes are cold, but he doesn’t retort, and finally he nods. “I have an extra bedroom that I use as an office. Check out of that hotel tomorrow, and then stay here for a while. Get to know them. You can do it your way, I’ll help. Just…go easy on them. This isn’t their fault. Let’s take it one step at a time.”

He doesn’t respond, his fingers rubbing his temples as if he can massage his anger away like a headache. “Okay,” he says eventually, his voice tired. She’s surprised at how easily he gives in, how little fight he puts forward. She takes his phone, puts her number in it, and walks him to the elevator. Once he’s gone, she slides down to the ground with her back against the apartment door, tears starting to well up in her eyes. There’s an image of him burned into her now, an older man than she remembered now that Scott is just a few years removed from forty. There’s stubble lining his jaw that had never quite emerged during their time as skaters, and a frown at the corners of his mouth that she only knew in the lowest points in their career. But the look he’d given her….She shivers. He’d looked at her as if he didn’t know her, didn’t trust her, and it was such an unfamiliar feeling that it spread through her like a sharp ache all over her body. After thirty years, Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir are strangers.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Scott rolls over in the uncomfortable hotel bed again. He’s been laying in it for the past nine hours, staring at the ceiling, the walls, the door, anything to try to distract him from the fact that his life has just been forever altered. Four blocks north and one block west, Tessa is not even bothering to attempt sleep, a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen and her laptop open on the table, and she’s finally granting herself permission to do something she hasn’t let herself do since the day she left Canada. She types ‘Scott Moir’ into the search bar on Google.

_Moir-led Fatima Alvi and Matthew Robertson Claim Gold in Junior Worlds_

_You’ll Love Scott Moir’s Sweet Speech to Sodano and Franklin after their fall at GP France_

_Is Scott Moir the Future King of Ice Dance Coaching?_

_Here are 15 Pictures of Scott Moir at the 2026 Olympics That Will Make You Swoon_

Tessa giggles in spite of herself at the last article, a slideshow from BuzzFeed Canada of candid pictures of Scott from around the Olympic city. In some, he’s helping Marie-France and Patrice on the sidelines of the skating competitions, in others, he’s passing out drinks at the Canadian Olympic House. There’s the normal picture of Scott screaming at the hockey final (Canada beat Russia 3-2, Tessa remembers with a smile), and one where he just lifted his Canada t-shirt to wipe his brow and his lean stomach was exposed that the author captioned ‘So. Much. Thirst’.

She goes back to Google, and her eyes land on another headline.

_It’s Been Eight Years And We Still Miss VirtueMoir._

The article itself is just a recap of their Olympic careers, with some of their competitions from during that time mixed in, but there’s a link at the bottom to an older article on a more-gossip oriented website, where the headline is the more out-there _What the Hell Happened Between Canada’s Ice King and Queen?_ She clicks it reluctantly, and starts reading.

 _The arrival of figure skating at the 2026 Olympics means that it has been eight years since Canada's sweethearts won gold and the title of most decorated figure skaters in Olympic history. London's Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir won hearts all over the world with their dedication to their sport and more importantly, to each other.  
  
What happened?   
  
Though the two continued to live in Montreal in the first couple years following their win, participating in various business ventures together and skating in professional shows, it's been years since the once inseparable duo have been seen in even the same city.   
  
Moir remains well loved by the Canadian skating community, coaching juniors for their old coaches Marie-France Dubreuil and Patrice Lauzon. His teams have been successful throughout the world and have spoken openly about their appreciation for Moir's dedication to their well-being and their sport. Virtue has become well-known in New York as the future of the fashion community. Her company, _ Virtue and Muldoon _, which she founded with fellow Canadian Natalia Muldoon in the fall of 2020, is recognized for its commitment to humanitarian efforts, sharing styles from countries all over the world and turning a sizable portion of profits back to the country that provides inspiration to the style._  
  
_Both make regular public appearances for business, but Moir's are typically in Montreal or Toronto, while Virtue has been seen in New York, London, Paris, and Milan, promoting her internationally adored line. Neither make many appearances outside of their business opportunities._  
  
_It's a far cry from days gone by, when the pair were rarely seen without the other on their arm. Internet fans adored their sweet friendship, and many even speculated that the longtime relationship had become romantic in the months following the 2018 Olympics. Their public appearances together continued until early 2020, when Virtue was first seen in New York. The two have not been seen together since._  
  
_There has been much speculation about the separation. Pessimists have argued that their so-called chemistry on the ice was fake after all, and that they were never truly friends. Others have favored the more fantastical idea of a lover's spat driving the two apart._  
  
_While we may never know the true cause of the split, one thing is clear. Neither of the two have smiled the same way since._

 

* * *

 

  
  
Tessa doesn't realize she's crying until she notices the damp spots on the sketch pad in front of her, colors on the model blending together into an ugly mess. She has a blanket wrapped around her whole body, and her feet are on her chair, arms wrapped around her knees and calves in the fetal position. Her mind is a fog, memories flashing through her head like a blooper reel.  
  
She needs to start getting ready for work, but she can’t stop clicking through websites. There articles about her that she’s always steered clear of, articles about Marie-France and Patrice and Gadbois, articles about ice-dance that she’s tried to pretend don’t exist for the last six years, articles about Scott and his coaching and Scott and his hockey obsession and Scott and his local endorsements and just _Scott_.

It’s getting close to eight when she finally checks the time, and so she sends a quick text to Natalia letting her know that she’s going to do some work from home in the morning. Then she calls her mother, who immediately agrees to come get the girls and take them out of the house for the day. She doesn’t mention Scott. The girls are dressed and ready to go by quarter till nine. Kate Virtue arrives promptly fifteen minutes later and they depart for a day at the zoo.

She’s had the chance to shower, dress, and get through a fourth cup of coffee by the time she hears a soft knock on the door. Scott looks about as uncomfortable as she feels, as, but he’s pulling a suitcase behind him, just as she suggested. She directs him into her guest room to settle in.

She’s just returned to her dress sketches at the table when Scott emerges, having changed from sweats into a well-fitting pair of dark washed jeans and an unfairly snug black t-shirt. He stops in his tracks when he sees Tessa’s work spread out.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “when I told you I would be here, it completely slipped my mind that today is a work day.”

He shrugs stiffly. “What are you working on?”  His eyes drift to the sketches spread across the table.

“Designs for our fall line,” she says. “I-I’m in fashion now, I don’t know if you…”

“I know,” he answers. “Patch filled me in on some things before I left, though there were some omissions.”

“They don’t know,” she mutters. “I left some stuff out in my conversations with Marie.”

“Clearly.” His voice is cold.

Scott’s standing awkwardly next to the table, and she gestures to the chair pulled out next to her. “So what do you want to know?”

“About the girls?” He scratches his head, his angry expression fading into one more thoughtful. “I don’t know…everything, I guess.”

“Any particular place you’d like for me to start?”

He pauses and she types a few lines of an email, making at least five typos because her fingers are shaking so badly. “Their names- they’re Trisha and Allie? Are they Virtues?”

“Moirs.” Her fingers stop on the keyboard. “Your name is on the birth certificate.”

“So I could…”

“Sue me for custody, yeah.” Her hands drop to her lap, her brain tries to shut out her immediate paralyzing fear. “Are you going to sue me for custody?”

There’s a pause, and then Scott ignores the question. “And Patricia and Alma…”

“I knew I was going to name one of the girls Alma the second I heard about your mother. Patricia I didn’t come up with until later, when I was laying in the hospital room with the girls on my shoulders, and I watched her face go clearly from happy to angry to confused and back to happy. I had to give her part of you.” She smiles. “Allie has a lot of my traits, but Trisha is completely your daughter. Always has her heart on her sleeve.”

Scott feels his heart swell up, and it wears away at a little of the anger and shock he’s felt since Tessa answered the door the night before. “Are they good girls?”

“They’re unbelievable,” Tessa says honestly. “Allie is so, so smart. She’s been reading for almost a year, and she has this great memory, so if she learns something once she knows it for good. I think it frustrates Trisha, because she’s a little slower on the uptake. I think sometimes she feels like she…”

“Can’t keep up,” Scott finishes. He looks a bit dazed, staring behind her into the kitchen. “I couldn’t read until I was a few months into first grade.”

“But Trisha…she’s got to be the noblest five-year-old I’ve ever met. She’s always got some sort of cause that she’s fighting for. There was a period of about three months where she refused to walk by garbage without picking it up and throwing it away. And one time we brought a lost dog home from the park because she refused to leave him there and she couldn’t sleep until we got a hold of his owner. She’s something special, that girl.”

Scott can’t fight the hint of a smile that emerges on his face, until another question pops into his head. “But they don’t skate?”

“No.” There’s emotion in her voice as she responds. “I took them once, when they were three. They were doing fine, and then “Latch” by Sam Smith came on the speakers at the rink and I started bawling watching the two of them twirl around as if it were the most natural thing in the world. They don’t remember going.”

He tries to ignore the exasperation rising in his throat. “My daughters don’t skate? And what do they do when you go to the rink?”

“I don’t.”

“What?” He says, leaping out of his seat and almost knocking over the vase of tulips.

“Scott, I don’t skate anymore.”


	3. Moods That Take Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the world's gone completely upside down, at least there are some things that never change.

“You don’t skate,” he repeats. He stares at her somewhat incredulously. “You seriously expect me to believe that?”

“It’s true,” she says. Her eyes are open wide and earnest, and anyone else in the world might have believed her.

But Scott isn’t anyone else in the world.

“You know,” he says, “If you want to start to make this gigantic mess better, I would start by not lying to me.”

“I’m not lying,” she insists. “With my job, I have to travel all over, and meet with people constantly and go to public events and host fashion shows, and any time I’m not doing that, I’m spending as much time with the girls as I can.”

“You’re reading from a script, Tessa.” His voice drops. “You know, I may not have seen you for the past few years, but I knew you pretty damn well for the twenty-four before that.” He steps behind her chair and a volt of electricity shoots down Tessa’s spine at the close proximity. “See, you have these tells when you’re hiding the truth.” His eyes are dancing, the look of anger temporarily gone, and there’s a hint of a smirk in them, one that excites and irritates Tessa in equal measure.

“Like what?” She asks, her eyes leaving his and staring forward at her laptop. Her screen has long since gone to sleep.

He bends forward, whispering in her ear. “Well with most people, you can get away with it,” he says, his breath hot against her neck. It makes her skin tingle in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time, and she has to suck in a breath. “You just say it with the appropriate conviction and a carefully crafted fake detail and you know you’re in the clear.” His thumb brushes her neck, and she positively trembles. “But with me, it’s a little harder. You always knew I could see straight through you. With me, you were a little more careful.” His lips are so close that they’re brushing her ear. “With me, you always had to distract me.”

Her eyes slide shut, heart pounding against her chest. She can feel him near her as if his body is an extension of hers, and the feeling is so _right_ , so familiar, that she sinks into it, her head angling away from his and exposing her neck to him without question.

“I still know you, Tessa,” He whispers again. “There is nothing in the world that could make you quit skating, not leaving me, not your job, not even having kids. The ice is your home.” He speaks so faintly into her ear she thinks she might have imagined it. “Did you really quit skating, Tessa?”

Her mouth opens of its own accord as she responds in a raspy voice. “I go to a rink on 18th Street every Friday at noon.”

“That’s what I thought.” His voice returns to normal and he backs off. She opens her eyes slowly, and he moves back around to the other side of the table. “Good to see some things haven’t changed.” He sounds bitter, and Tessa is hit with a wave of embarrassment. She doesn’t know what she’s most embarrassed about: the lie, at how well he still knows her after six years, at her body’s automatic response to his presence, or that after six years, she still can’t control herself around him.

 She counts to ten slowly in her head. “It’s getting close to lunchtime,” she mutters. “If you’re finished grilling me for now, I need to get lunch and get to our office.”

 

* * *

 

 

As clear-headed as he remembers feeling last night, today Scott thinks perhaps this morning a truck ran over his senses. He’s not quite sure how he ended up at Tessa’s so early in the day. He’s not sure why he decided to try to provoke her by sticking his face in her ear (and by her look of disgust, she doesn’t either), and he’s not sure why, an hour later, he’s insisted on accompanying her to her new place of work.

“My partner’s name is Natalia Muldoon,” Tessa says, staring at the ceiling of the white elevator they’re taking up to her studio office. They’re as far from each other in the elevator as is physically possible, both clutching the railing and awkwardly avoiding eye contact. “She grew up in Vancouver but she moved to the States when she went to college. She double-majored in art and business at Yale, she’s the smartest person I know. I met her a few months after I got here, she was as working as a buyer at Saks. Her husband is from Nigeria, he works at the UN.”

Scott nods. The air between them is tense. He knows he probably owes her an apology, but the idea of doing so in the midst of all the hurt he’s feeling right now is not something he thinks he’s mature enough to handle. Even though they’re nowhere near each other, he can still feel her skin under his fingers from before, and it’s as if his body has never forgotten hers, trying to drag him forward like a magnet, reminding him of his purpose, of something that feels sickly like _belonging_. He tries not to wonder if she’s feeling the same way.

When the doors slide open at the top floor of the building, they’re hit by an array of noises and a burst of sunlight. Tessa’s office is a big, open brick room like an old factory building, with desks, podiums, mannequins, and clothing racks scattered all over the room in no obvious order. There are at least thirty people wandering around with clipboards and halfway put together outfits, mostly women, and in the middle of the room, a tall woman is calling out directions to the masses.

“Oh Tess, thank God,” she calls out, seeing her emerge. “Everything is a mess today, Emmanuel is literally too sick to get out of bed, and our travel guy called me and told me that there’s a problem with my flight to Venice for the spring preview next week and I swear, Virtue, if I have to fly United then I don’t care that you went to the last one, I am dragging you on that plane with me. The guys that are doing the renovation to the changing room walked over and said that it’s going to take an extra week for them to finish, putting us right on top of Fashion Week. Then Sarah called from LA because apparently that cute girl from Thailand who won Best Supporting Actress last year wants to wear something custom from us at her premiere this weekend and I have literally nothing to give her, and…” she cuts herself off as she notices Scott standing a few feet behind Tessa. “Hello,” she says, her tone much more cautious.

Tessa moves back and rests an uneasy hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Scott, this is Natalia, my business partner. Natalia, this is Scott, my…” She stops, uncertain how to finish.

“We used to ice-skate together,” Scott fills in.

“Right,” Natalia says, slipping a professional smile onto her face. “You used to do some competitions, right?”

“You could say we did a few of those,” Scott says, turning to look at Tessa in disbelief. _Some competitions?_

“Scott, could you keep yourself busy for a while?” She gives him a pleading look. He excuses himself, looking a bit disgruntled.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay,” Natalia says an hour later, letting out a sigh of relief. “You’re a miracle worker. I’m not positive what just happened during that phone conversation but I’m pretty sure you just convinced Southwest Airlines to build me my own airplane.”

“Nah,” Tessa smiles, the stress of the day momentarily forgotten. “Just bend the schedule a little.”

“You are one manipulative genius and that is why our company is thriving.”

“That, and the fact that you and I haven’t had a vacation in five years,” Tessa says.

“Yeah, or a date.” Natalia adds. Tessa shoots her a dirty look. “I say these things because I care, babe.” Tessa looks over to Scott in the corner for the thirtieth time. He’s typing on his laptop intently, and she hasn’t seen his eyes move since they’ve been here. With several of their models present in stages of moderate undress, she might have found it unexpected, if she herself had not forced him to so many costume fittings throughout their skating career.

Natalia follows her line of sight. “So do you want to tell me who the hell that is?”

Tessa groans. “How much time do you have?” Scott finally looks up and their eyes meet. Tessa quickly looks away, shrinking back towards her desk.

“Tess, seriously.”

“That’s Allie and Trisha’s father.” There’s a wobble in Tessa’s voice that even she can hear, and Natalia’s jaw drops.

“Did he skip out on them? Because I swear if he did I will go right over there and kick his ass from here to Timbuktu.”

“No, no,” Tessa grabs Natalia’s hand, and they both fall to their desk chairs. “Look, it’s really complicated, but it’s not his fault that he hasn’t been around.”

“Was he a one-night-stand?”

“NO,” Tessa says forcefully, and Natalia’s eyebrows jump up at her hostile tone.

“Tess, you’ve got to give me something. Maybe a five-minute overview? Executive Summary?”

Tessa looks back over at him, and, ignoring the fact that the noises the construction workers are producing make it nearly impossible that Scott can hear anything they are saying, drags Natalia all the way to the opposite end of the room. “You know I was an ice-skater before I moved to New York.”

“Yes.” Natalia lets Tessa pull her down onto a soft leather bench on the back wall.

“Well, Scott was my partner, and we were pretty good.”

“How good?”

Tessa bites her lip. “Um, technically we’re the most decorated figure skaters of all time.”

Natalia yelps. “You’re what?! How did I never know about this?”

“Because you don’t care about sports, and that’s one of the things I love about you.” Tessa squeezes her hand. “Look, the long story short is that before I came to New York, skating was my entire life. I met Scott when I was six, and we skated together for almost 23 years. We were together constantly. Either we were training eight hours a day and competing all over the world or we were doing media appearances, shows, rehearsals for shows, or classes for kids. From the time I was seven until I was thirty, he was my life.” She folds her hands together in her lap, thinking of tired cuddling on airplanes, of strong hands lifting up her sore and spent body over and over, of picking up to move so many times but always knowing she would never be alone anywhere as long as she had Scott.

“It’s hard to explain, a bond like that. The media was always pestering us to come up with some kind of definition for it, but we never could. When we were kids, it was like a brother/sister relationship, but as we got older it got more and more complicated, like our bond was a living thing all on its own. Dating barely worked because our significant others always knew that our partnership was going to come first.” She paused. “After the 2014 Olympics, we retired from competitive skating for a while. We still did a lot of the things we’d done together before, but we didn’t have a constant reason to be together. Looking back, I think that’s when things started to change.”

In Tessa’s mind she pictures a long drive through rural China. She thinks of the Great Wall, mist, and humid air.  She thinks of the timid, quiet way he’d asked her _“Do you want to compete again?”._ She remembers the absolute certainty she’d had in that moment, that no matter what answer she gave him, whether she wanted to compete until they were forty or never touch Olympic ice again, he’d agree to it, just to make her happy.

“When we started training together again, we moved to Montreal. It was the first time we had ever been more than a few hours from our hometown. It just felt different. We started spending more time together off the ice. All the complicated feelings we’d ever had for each other...they were still there, and harder to ignore, and eventually we just stopped trying.”

She’s been staring at her hands, and when she looks up, Natalia has an alarmed expression that she looks like she’s unsuccessfully trying to turn comforting. “So what happened?”

_Laying uncomfortably on the carpet of the tiny, run-down apartment._

_An empty tissue box._

_A hockey stick in the corner._

_One black suitcase unzipped next to an air mattress._

_A white stick with two pink lines._

“The girls happened,” she says simply. “And I was already gone.”

Natalia looks like she has about fifty or possibly five hundred questions to add, Tessa can see them piling up in her eyes, but she blinks, and then exhales, her face going blank. “So now he’s here.”

“Yes.”

“And he’s found out about the girls.”

“Yes.”

“And he’s pretty mad.”

“You could say that, yes.” Her eyes drift back over to him, and she’s startled to find him looking back at her, his laptop closed on his lap. She studies him for a moment. He still has the unfairly tight black t-shirt on. He always _did_ look good in dark colors, didn’t he, and he’s clearly not missed out on any time with the trainers recently, if anything, his arms look even stronger than they used to. He’s still got that unfamiliar stubble on his face, but it might be working for him, and his hair is somewhere in-between the way it had looked when they were first living in Montreal and the way it had looked in the last Olympics, long enough to tangle fingers into, long enough to pull. Her eyes find his again. He’s watching her check him out, and he’s still angry, but there’s that little bit of a smirk on his face again, and much to Tessa’s own surprise, she smirks right back at him.

Natalia’s still looking at her as if she has three heads, but they return to their work. Tessa manages to become absorbed in her designs for a couple blissful hours, sketching out three different ideas for What’s-her-name to wear on the red carpet, and by the time she checks her phone, it’s nearly five. Most of their staff is already gone, and Natalia has departed to take her husband to the doctor. There’s a sunset starting in the giant window behind her, and the volume of noise in the room has gone down substantially.

“Joan, what are the odds that you could make all of these for me by Wednesday?” She asks, walking over to the corner of the room to show her work to the older woman who ran their production team.

“For you Tessa, anything.” Joan says, pulling her glasses on. Tessa tears the pages out of her sketchpad and sets them on her desk, and as Joan starts to inspect them, she glances around the room. “He’s not in here, sweetie,” Joan comments, her eyes still on the paper

Tessa tries not to let herself be hurt. “Oh. I guess he had something else to do. I’ll just have to…”

“No, he went downstairs to help the guys move some stuff.” Joan gives her a strange look from over the top of her glasses. “Are you okay?”

 _Not even a little_. “Of course, why?” The men emerge from the hallway, and she sees Scott holding one end of a stack of wooden planks. He’s already laughing with the guy at the other end of the planks like they’re best friends. Someone’s given him an orange vest and a hardhat to wear on top of that damn black t-shirt and jeans combo he’s had on all day. Between the ghost of his mouth on her ear and the sweat she can see glistening on his biceps, Tessa finds herself momentarily speechless, her view locked on the man as he starts shifting wood onto a large machine in the corner.  

Joan raises an eyebrow. “I was beginning to think you were becoming an old maid like me. Perhaps I was mistaken?”

Tessa barely hears her.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott had been glad for the distraction that helping the construction crew was providing. Now he’s on his way to see his daughters for exactly the second time in his life, and just _thinking_ about it is terrifying enough. Tessa is barely looking at him for some reason, and it’s making him all kinds of uncomfortable, so he tries to distract from the tension. “So are we going to see your mom? Are the girls in preschool?”

“My mom takes them a couple mornings a week, the rest of the time she watches them. She’s semi-retired.”

They’re walking down a busy Manhattan street, the warmth of the setting sun deflecting the crispness of the air around them. Tessa is wearing heels and Scott still finds himself increasing his stride to catch up with her. Tessa dodges the other pedestrians like a pro, and Scott almost loses track of her a few times, caught up by a hot dog cart, a lamppost, and at one point, what looks like a walking tour for senior citizens. “Can you slow down?”

“Sorry,” Tessa says, still facing forward.

“So your coworkers don’t even know you were a skater?”

“Of course they knew,” she snaps. “People bring it up in interviews all the time, it’s just not something I draw attention to anymore, okay?”

Scott shrinks back. “Just…what happened to you?”

“What happened to you?” she counters, and neither of them know how to answer the question.

After a series of twists and turns that would take Scott weeks to figure out, they make it to a more traditional style New York apartment building. Kate Virtue’s apartment is on the eighth floor, and when they arrive at the door, Tessa pulls out her own key. “Girls, we’re here!”

Trisha and Allie are sitting at the kitchen table coloring. “Mommy!” Trisha chirps, scribbling frantically with a red crayon. Allie jumps out of her seat, running over to wrap her arms around her mother’s legs. “Hello Mister Scott,” she says shyly, peering up at him in the doorway.

He leans over. “It’s good to see you, Allie.”

Allie looks positively delighted. “No one ever gets us right,” she says, and the smile she gives Scott makes him feel like he could float.

“Well of course you’re Allie,” he says, allowing himself to put a head on her head. How _did_ he know she was Allie? He hadn’t put any real thought into it, he just…knows. He smiles to her, and she cautiously lets go of Tessa. “You’re one Allie tall and you have Allie’s nose and Allie’s eyes and Allie’s mouth. Who else could you be?”

Allie is beaming at him, and Trisha runs over to them, her drawing forgotten. “What about me?”

Scott pretends to consider it, looking her up and down exaggeratedly. “Well you’re about a Mommy tall, right?”

“I’m not Mommy tall!” Trisha exclaims.

“Well then how tall are you?”

“I’m a Trisha tall!”

“And who is Mommy tall?”

Trisha giggles. “Mommy, silly!”

Scott grins at Trisha. “You’re pretty smart. High-five?” He holds his hand slightly over Trisha’s head, and Trisha jumps up to hit it.

Tessa is watching the conversation with a bemused expression, her discomfort from the day starting to subside. “So Allie, where is Grandma?”

“I’m here,” a voice calls from the open bedroom door next to the kitchen, and Scott straightens. Kate emerges from the room with her eyes already fixated on Scott. “So the rumors are true, then,” she says, the barest hint of a smile on her face. “Welcome to New York, Scotty. It's good to see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, guys. I love this story, and I love writing this story, so I'm just going to warn you, real life is a bit crazy at the moment so I can't promise to continue updating every few days- I'm going to do my best to make sure I get in at least one chapter a week. Thanks so much for continuing to read and leave comments and kudos, it means so much to me! 
> 
> Up Next: If Tessa refuses to defend herself, maybe someone else will.


	4. And I Can't React

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their bond had always been a shade of gray, and maybe that's why his anger is too.

“Are you sure?” Patch’s voice is gruff in his ear.

“Yeah man, just for a few weeks. There’s just…more to figure out here than I thought there would be.”

“Scott.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s exactly what I think.”

Scott sighs, willing to bet Patrice can sense his anxiety from six hours away. “Just give me some time and take care of my dog, okay?”

“You better take care of yourself. There’s a camp in three weeks in Boston. Your teams need you to be there.” Patch hangs up.

Scott knows Patch isn’t really mad at him, is probably furious with Tessa, and he finds himself even a little absurdly defensive of Tessa as he shoves his phone back into his pocket, following the already familiar path between Tessa’s apartment and Kate’s.  It’s early afternoon, a week since his arrival in New York, and he still feels like he’s barely breathing.

The girls are _everything_. The days have been passing by in flashes; On Tuesday morning, Trisha shows him the wall where she and Allie keep all of their coloring pages, one half for Allie, one half for Trisha. On Wednesday, Allie begs her mom and the four of them trek out in the rain to the girls’ favorite restaurant, a cute little bistro where Tessa eats kale salad and the girls eat glorified grilled cheese with French fries and a single apple slice and end up with a table full of greasy napkins and big smiles on their faces- he tries not to think about how similar their smile is to Tessa’s. On Thursday, Tessa lets him walk the girls all the way to Kate’s apartment for the day by himself. Allie and Trisha both skip there after wolfing down several chocolate chip pancakes that Scott learned how to make decades ago, because even if they are Moirs, they’re also half Virtue, and Scott knows nothing if not how win over a Virtue with chocolate. The weekend comes, and Scott spends nearly an entire day alone at the park with the girls, chasing them around the nicest playground he’s ever seen, playing tag and hide and seek and every other game he can think of (Allie is good at seeking but Trisha is even better at hiding), and even feeding them what they say is their first-ever hot dog.

And Tessa, well, Tessa is only halfway there.

She’s on the phone when he turns around to make a comment to her, she’s on her knees talking to Allie when he approaches her to ask about Trisha, she’s finishing design orders when he walks out to go for a run, she’s fixing a sandwich for Trisha when he asks her to build a puzzle with him and Allie. She’s not angry with him, he knows of the tells of Tessa’s anger and they’re not there, and even though he’s still mad at her and he knows she’s stressed out from the details of planning Fashion Week with _Virtue & Muldoon_, he can’t help but wonder why it seems like she’s holding herself back from him.

He’s still mulling over his thoughts when he arrives at Kate’s door, letting himself in with the key that she’s already insisted he take. He’s met by the soft drone of the TV, and when he reaches her small gray living room, he sees only Kate folding laundry.

“Hey Scotty,” Kate greets him, her voice low. “You’re early. The girls are still asleep.”

“I got bored,” Scott confesses. “I’ve run out of skating tape to watch. I think I’ve choreographed the entire score of Casablanca and only half of it is applicable to junior skaters.”

“Never did know when to stop working, the pair of you.” Kate says, the corners of her mouth twitching up. “Or moping.”

“I’m nowhere near as bad as her,” Scott grumbles.

Kate snorts. “Sweetheart, there’s been a raincloud over your head since you got here, the same size and shape as the one that’s been over Tessa’s head since she left Canada.”

Scott mutters under his breath, something suspiciously like “It’s her fault.”

“Scott, I know it’s been hard on you. I really do. Cara calls me from time to time. But it hasn’t been easy for her, either.”

“Why wouldn’t she call me?” Scott explodes, before remember the sleeping girls in the next room. His volume drops. “Why wouldn’t she get a positive test or go see a doctor, or I don’t know, find some way to tell me that I’m going to be a father some time in the nine months between my world falling apart and my becoming an actual father?”

“Scott…” Kate looks sad, and she sets the laundry down. “Scott, Tessa was sick.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Tessa, come on.”  

“Hmm?” She says sleepily, her head shooting up from the keyboard on her desk.

“ _Tessa_ ,” Natalia says, her eyes indignant. “It’s two o’clock and you’ve already been here for seven hours. Exactly how long were you planning on staying tonight?”

“Well my mom promised to get the girls this morning, and Scott actually sounded not terrified about going to get them from her apartment tonight and take them to dinner, so I thought that I could just knock the whole day out and then…”

“No, you’re can’t. You need sunlight, Tessa. And not just the kind that comes through these windows. It’s a beautiful day.” Natalia pushes her desk chair out and yanks Tessa to her feet. “There is nothing we have to have done tonight that can’t wait until tomorrow, the designs are done, production is full speed ahead making sure we have backups and multiple sizes in case one of the girls can’t make it, and you have a man at your apartment that is not making your stress level any lower. As your partner, I am seizing your work for this afternoon and demanding that you do something that has nothing to do with this job or Fashion Week or your girls, who are currently fine and with family, and not with Scott either.”

Tessa looks at Natalia anxiously. “I can’t just do nothing!”

“Do something with me, then.” A male cuts in from near the construction area, and Theo Domingue steps into the main office. His smile is a sharp contrast to his tanned skin and black hair, a gray _Virtue & Muldoon_ t-shirt thrown over a pair of jeans that Tessa and Natalia specifically made for him as a thank-you the year before. “Natalia wants me to deliver your after-party invitations to the stores near the Garden, do you want to walk around with me?”

“Tallie, you can’t make an NHL player be our own personal mail service,” Tessa protests.

Natalia smiles wickedly. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I can. And now I can make you do it, too!”

“Come on Tessa, it’s not so bad. If it will make you feel better, I’ll let you buy me a soft pretzel while we walk,” Theo says.

“Fine, I’ll get my purse.” Tessa relents.

The days are getting longer and the afternoons warmer, and as soon as Tessa steps into the sunlight her shoulders feel lighter. They walk through Washington Square Park before jumping onto the subway, and Tessa thinks it may be the first time she’s noticed green grass since the previous fall. Theo is easy company, filling in time by chattering with her about the relatively successful the Rangers are having and ribbing her lightly about her beloved Maple Leafs. Slowly, worries about the company and Scott start to fade away.

 

* * *

 

“She was sick, Scott.”

Kate repeats the words plainly and clearly, and yet Scott thinks he can’t possibly have heard her correctly.

“What?”

“If Tessa isn’t going to do anything to defend herself, I will. Scott, she was really, really sick.”

“No,” he says, his head getting foggy.

Kate pats the couch next to her, and when he sits down, she places a hand gingerly on his knee. “She was sick,” she repeats gently. “She got pre-eclampsia when she was about five months along, right after she told me she was pregnant. Her feet were so swollen that she couldn’t get her boots on, and she called me from the middle of Nordstrom crying. It turned into eclampsia at seven months. She was having seizures, she passed out a couple times in public. She was induced at 36 weeks because they were worried that she would have placental abruption and it could hurt the babies. It was scary, Scott.”

“No,” he says again. His voice is high-pitched and he’s starting to shake under Kate’s hand.

“Scott, you need hear this. She could have died. She was stuck in a bed and miserable because she couldn’t get out and skate or even walk. I tried to get her to tell you a thousand times, I promise, but she thought that you seeing her like that might actually destroy you.”

Scott is keeled over on his legs, and Kate’s hand moves to wrap all the way around his torso tightly as his breathing becomes more and more erratic. “No- she couldn’t have been. She’s healthy, she’s always been healthy. She-she was a professional athlete, she’s perfect, she takes care of herself, she couldn’t have gotten sick, how could it have happened?” He looks up at her suddenly, and Kate lets out a quiet breath at the tears in his eyes. “It-it’s because it was twins, isn’t it?”

Kate sighs. “Twins do make it a higher risk factor, yes.”

“This is my fault.” It comes out as a whisper.

“Scott, no, you can’t possibly think…”

“You don’t have twins in your family. It’s because of me- my mom’s family.” Scott looks absolutely devastated, and Kate’s heart breaks. In that moment she’s having flashbacks; to the little boy who had ridden in the back of her car more times than she could count,  to the teenager who had angrily ranted to her about the other boys at the high school not treating Tessa the right way, to the young man who had been at her bedside the minute she’d awakened from the surgery. “I should have been here, should’ve known something was wrong, I...”

“How could you have known, Scotty?”  

“I should have gone after her,” Scott says firmly.

“You were hurt,” Kate replies.

Scott falls silent. He’s leaning into Kate like a lifeline now, and without thinking she’s rubbing his back, trying to soothe him the way she always did for her own children. “This is all such a mess, Kate. I don’t know the first thing about being a parent.” His voice is faint and sad. “I was always so focused on training, and then after Tessa left I just never thought I’d find…” He cuts himself off and there’s a soft flush to his cheeks, as if he’s afraid he’s revealed too much. “And I always thought,” he says, his speech growing hoarse, “that when the day came, my mom would be around to see it.”

He’s crying softly now, his head buried in her shoulder. With all the intuition of a mother of several decades to three children, she knows that a mom is exactly what he needs, and for a while she’s silent, holding his weight up for him and continuing to hold him against her. Scott is close to forty, but to her he will always be the eight-year-old he was when his daughter had held his hand for the first time.

“Scott,” she says after a while, finally breaking the tension. “Your mom and I, we used to talk about it sometimes, the idea of you and Tessa being parents, taking tiny little ones to the rink way before they were ready and strapping two-blade skates on them so they wouldn’t fall over. We used to joke that you were going to have to strap the hockey sticks on them so that you could get them used to the balance for the annual Moir Hockey Scrimmage. Now we were never bold enough to think you’d be parents together, but…”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Kate,” Scott whimpers. “I was barely holding it together with my life in Montreal, and now…I don’t know how to be a father.”

Kate gives him a soft smile. “Scott, your mom never doubted for a day that you would be a wonderful father. We used to love watching you twirling around your nieces and the other kids in those Lindt Master Classes. One time we were at the Ilderton Skating Club watching you with them and she said to me something like ‘I used to worry about Charlie and Danny getting their acts together to be dads, but not Scotty. His heart is so big that the day he becomes a father he’ll latch on to it with both hands and never let go.” She reaches with her free hand up to his head and scratches his hair. “She believed in you. I do too. And so does Tessa, even if she’s got a spectacularly bad way of showing it.”

Scott stares at Kate’s expensive white coffee table, one he’s almost certain was picked out by Tessa. There are a thousand emotions swirling through his head, and it hurts just to try to pick a single one out. He focuses on his breathing, in and out, and a gentle nudge comes from somewhere inside his chest. “I want to forgive her, Kate. I’ve never been any good at being mad at her. But this, this is so big. How could I ever trust her again? How could I ever look her in the eyes and see the girl that relied on me for everything once?”

“You don’t have to,” Kate answers. “I don’t know if I ever could, to be honest. But Scott, you have to know she would never ask you to. Even after she got healthy again, she-she’s been punishing herself for years, she never goes out on dates, never takes girls’ trips, never goes home to Canada, she just does work stuff and then comes home to be with the girls. And you two,” she pauses, shaking her head, “you two have always been different. The boundaries of friendship have always been different for you two. ”

Scott thinks of mild summers in Michigan, and harsh winters in Montreal. He thinks of endless flights to ugly hotel rooms in unfamiliar cities, to golds and silvers, to hours waiting in a hard hospital chair waiting for good news, of carnivals and festivals and so many show numbers that they all blended together, to top hats and hockey jerseys, to a broken heart crying softly into his shoulder, to flowing dresses and sparkling bodysuits and that one small hand, always, always, _always_ holding on to his.  He doesn’t want it to ease his mind, but somehow it does.

“I shouldn’t want to forgive her.”

Kate looks at him sideways. “But it’s a little more complicated than that, isn’t it?” 

 

* * *

 

 

They’re walking towards Chelsea Park hours later, the sky dark and the air cool. “I had fun with you today,” Theo says, bumping her with his elbow.

“Me too,” Tessa answers, surprised at herself. “I think maybe I needed a little bit of a break from all the crazy.”

“I wouldn’t say that was a break from the crazy, just a break from your crazy and a little bit of introduction into my crazy.” His shoulder is brushing up against hers, and she doesn’t immediately shy away.

“How long have you been doing this stuff for Natalia? I would never have asked you to.”

“I know,” He says with a chuckle. “She never has either, it’s just always seemed like a job I could do that would take pressure off you two, so I figured why not volunteer.”

“We really do appreciate it.” They’re quiet for a minute as they pass a restaurant with sidewalk seating, Theo stepping behind her and nudging her away from the traffic on the road.  

“Why didn’t you ever mention that you have kids?” He asks finally.

She exhales slowly, sticking her fingers into her jean pockets. “It’s complicated.”

Theo chuckles a little as they instinctively move around an elderly couple holding hands further down the sidewalk. “Isn’t it always?”

“I’m fiercely protective of them, that’s the first reason. I’d venture to say that there are people in my company who don’t know that I have kids, I rarely bring them into our office. I have a somewhat public life, and I don’t want them to have to get involved in it. They’re barely five years old, they don’t need to be worrying about what they’re wearing or if their noses are the right shape or how their hair looks. They should be able to be little girls.”

Theo is hesistant. “And their father, are you two…”

“No,” she answers succinctly. “But they adore him.” It’s the truth, even if they’ve only had a week to prove it.

“Do they like hockey?” He asks.

She grins. “Of course they do.” 

“You should bring them to a game sometime. I’d love to show them around the rink.” It’s a friendly enough invitation, and yet Tessa feels her cheeks getting warm at the suggestion. Theo looks over at her as they turn the corner. “I don’t know you that well, Tessa, but you seem like the type that deserves to take a break. You always seem so sad. And the last few days especially, Tallie mentioned that you’ve been working really hard to get to Fashion Week but you just seem drained.”

“I don’t think moms get to take breaks,” Tessa comments, stifling an ill-timed yawn behind her hand.

“Sure they do,” he says, “if their own moms are in town to babysit.”

She looks over at him, taken aback when she sees how close their bodies are as the walk together. He’s got an intent look on his face, and she’s not sure if that excites her or unnerves her. “What do you mean?”

He’s got this sideways grin as he stops walking, taking her hand in his gently. “Well I was thinking, maybe a nice dinner? We could share a bottle of wine, maybe try some chocolate for dessert? I’ve been told about your stash in your desk. How does this Friday sound?”

Her mouth is open and her eyebrows high on her forehead. “I haven’t been on a date in a really long time, Theo.”

“Great,” he says, still grinning. “I don’t think my stock is quite high enough to compete for you.”

She’s not sure what tiny voice it is inside her that answers him. “Okay.”

They part ways after Tessa finally gives him her number, and Tessa is silent as she rides the last ten blocks back to her apartment in a cab, staring at the pedestrians across the street. When she enters her building, she’s still a little shell-shocked. She walks up the stairs of the brownstone, her mind racing at the thought of her plans.

When she walks through the door of her apartment, something immediately feels different. It’s quiet, and the purple shoes that have been sitting in the hallway waiting for Trisha to pick them up and put them away have disappeared. The girls’ matching blue raincoats have been neatly placed below the cursive signs reading _Alma_ and _Patricia_ in fancy cursive lettering, and someone has even taped fresh colored pages over the signs- one a mermaid, one a pirate. Tessa makes her way to her living room slowly.

Scott’s there, sitting on one end of the couch with a knit throw draped casually over his knees. He’s got her only TV on, the volume turned down but the channel tuned to a hockey playoff game. His face is concentrated on the game, lips moving as if he’s coaching the hockey team in the back of his mind, and the remote is sitting on his chest. The living room has been cleaned up as well, all of the girls’ toys neatly picked up and sorted into the white cabinet Tessa had purchased nearly two years ago for that exact purpose and never managed to use. The dishes over in the kitchen sink have been put away, too, gone is the stack of dirty plates and bowls that’s been causing her extra anxiety over the course of the last week. The counter has been wiped down, the floor has been swept.

There’s a fresh vase of tulips on the table. At least thirty of them are sitting there in water, pointing out in different directions: reds, yellows, purples, oranges, tucked neatly into a clear crystal bowl with a soft pink ribbon tied around it elegantly. Tessa stops in her tracks, all thoughts of Theo gone.

“Scott,” she starts.

He stays on the couch. “The girls are in bed. We decided it was time we tidied up around here.”

“The flowers…”

He glances over his shoulder at her. “I assumed you buy them fresh and you hadn’t had time this week since you’ve been so busy with work. The old arrangement looked pretty sad. I figured I would save you some trouble.”

“You just…you went and…” she stammers.

He raises an eyebrow at her standing there in between the kitchen and the living room, her tote dropped onto the floor, the exhaustion still clear in the frown at the corners of her mouth and the slump in her shoulders. “You should get some sleep too. Another busy day tomorrow.” He turns back to the TV.

She knows him too well to think that she’s anywhere close to forgiven, knows from the slight clench of his jaw and the hand wrapped tightly around a can of beer that he’s a long way from over his anger.

But it’s a start. And for now, it might be all she needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the wonderful support for this story! I'm going to do my best to reply to some of the comments!
> 
> "I have to get home to Tessa". - Scott Patrick Moir


	5. And I Can't Go Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa's first date in six years brings up a lot of memories. Scott spends some quality time with his girls.

_“You two need a break.”_

_“We’re taking a break right now,” he says, holding up his half-empty bottle of Gatorade._

_“Not this kind of break,” Marie says. “A real break. Take Saturday off.”_

_“We can’t afford to…” Tessa starts as Scott says “But High Performance Camp is…”_

_Marie holds up both of her hands, and they fall silent. “One day. You two must take one day. You’ve been training non-stop since you got here, and you’re both exhausted. You’ve nothing to say to one another because you don’t do anything else. Take Saturday. See each other, don’t see each other. Up to you. But no skating.”_

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a Friday night and Tessa’s in her bathroom, nervously pacing back and forth in front of the mirror. “I just need…a favor…” she mutters, “no, not a favor…I was hoping that you could be in charge tonight….while I…while I what, Tess? Nothing major, I just was asked to go to….a dinner…and I thought since you’re here…no, no, not like that…There’s a man, and I…”

“And what?” She flips around, seeing Scott casually leaning against the bathroom door, looking irritatingly handsome in a dark green Henley.

“Scott,” she says, startled. “I thought you were with the girls.”

He looks confused, a single eyebrow lifting on his forehead. “They’re watching a cartoon,” he responds slowly. “There’s a man?”

She jumps back, almost knocking over a stray bottle of lotion on her bathroom counter. “Not a man, exactly, um, his name is Theo, and he…”

“Theo,” Scott repeats. “His name is Theo but he’s not a man.”

“Well of course he’s a man, he’s a man and he does some work with my company, and he wanted to get together tonight, for dinner….and I thought with you being….but if you don’t want to, I can totally call and reschedule…”

“Slow down,” Scott says, and he’s actually grinning at her, the bastard. “There’s someone named Theo, who may or may not be a man, but he works with your company and he wants to meet up…for a business dinner? And you were hoping I could watch the girls. And this is what you’ve been stressing out about all week that you wouldn’t admit to?”

Tessa feels a flush rising up on her neck, and she knows he can tell. “Not a business dinner, so much as just…dinner…”

He raises an eyebrow again. “I see,” he says, his voice clipped. He stares at her.

“I can just call and cancel, I don’t know what I was thinking, agreeing to go…”

“It’s okay, Tess,” he says quietly. “I’ll be happy to watch the girls.”

 

* * *

 

 

_He’s standing at her front door, a blue crinkled button-down on over some white shorts she’s fairly certain he’s owned since before their first Olympics. “What are you doing here?” she asks, still sleepy._

_“It’s our day off!” He says cheerfully._

_“Right,” she says, grumpy. “So I get to sleep in.”_

_“Tomorrow,” he says, nodding, “because today we’re going to a music festival at Parc Jean-Drapeau. Now scooch, go put on anything you want because you’ll be the prettiest girl there anyway and let’s go. If you get ready fast I may even be willing to stop for Timmy’s on the way there.”_

_She bites her lip, trying to hide her smile. “Did you plan out the whole day, Scott?”_

_He winks. “You might have to wait and see.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Tessa emerges from the bathroom a full two hours later, her hair immaculately curled and makeup carefully applied for the first time in what feels like years. She’s wearing a dark blue dress that she found near the back of her closet and has no memory of purchasing, but has no food stains on from small fingers grabbing the skirt and tugging, and heels that make her taller than she’s been in years.

“Okay girls,” she calls out, setting her clutch on the hall table and walking towards her living room. “Mommy’s going someplace special tonight.”

Trisha and Allie are at their small white table off in the corner, building towers with Legos. Scott has found the extra chair that Tessa had stored in her coat closet and forgotten about, and he looks huge sitting at the kid-size table and helping both of them fit pieces together. Both the twins look like they haven’t heard a word she’s said.

“You better go say goodbye to your mom,” Scott says, nudging them both in the arm.

“You’re leaving?” Allie says, and she’s wearing a face that suggests that Tessa has just told her she’s never returning.

“Just for a little bit,” Tessa says, and both the girls drop their Legos and run over to grab her legs. “I’m going to go have a special dinner.”

“Can’t we come?” Trisha cries.

“We’re going to have a special dinner of our own,” Scott says, gingerly lifting himself off the undersized chair.

“But why can’t we have dinner with Mommy?”

“Because,” Scott answers, making a scrunched up face that makes the girls giggle, “Mommy is going to have a boring grown up dinner. She’ s probably going to eat boring things like broccoli and salad.”

“What are we going to have?” Trisha says, holding onto Tessa’s skirt.

Scott pretends to look both directions of the apartment, and then stage-whispers. “Do you like pizza?”

Trisha squeals and runs over to Scott, but Allie’s still not convinced. “Why do we always have Trisha’s favorite?” she whines.

Scott approaches her then, kneeling in front of Allie and Tessa and taking Allie’s hand. “Well,” he says importantly, “I think that maybe if you’re good while your Mommy is gone, you might get to have _brownies_ too.” Allie grins, letting go and looking up at her mother. “Mommy, can we please have brownies?”

Tessa shrugs back at her. “Hey, if Scott’s in charge than what he says goes.” She rubs Allie’s cheek.

“Yay,” Allie says shyly, “bye Mommy!”

“Bye Mommy!” Trisha echoes, and as Tessa turns towards the door she sees Scott smirking at her. “You just wait, you’re their favorite now but they might never go to sleep,” she teases. “Bye Scott.”

He stares at her for a moment, his eyes deliberately dropping down her body, and she can’t help the way her fingers tremble as she picks up her clutch again in the hallway. “Goodbye, Tessa. Have a nice time.” He spins away, and as Tessa stares at his back as he walks to start dinner, she wonders fleetingly if gazes can leave a permanent signature.

She’s just getting to the bottom of the stairs in her building when she sees Theo stepping through the door, shaking out a soaked umbrella. “I was going to come up to get you!”

“I figured it would be easier this way,” Tessa explains. “My girls…I don’t think they should be involved just yet.”

Theo nods. “They don’t take too well to strange men showing up at their home?”

Tessa bites the inside of her lip, remembering the excited looks on Allie’s and Trisha’s faces as they’d followed Scott into the kitchen to start their pizza. “It’s not really something I do.”

Theo nods, indicating out to the rain falling outside. “So I made reservations at a great restaurant in Midtown, but this morning I woke up and saw this weather and so our plans have changed. Could I have the honor of escorting a beautiful woman somewhere else instead?”

“Stroll through the park?” Tessa says lightly, and he chuckles.

“No, I still owe you a dinner. There’s another restaurant I thought we should go to, over near Gramercy Park. Are you up for a little bit of an adventure?”

 

* * *

 

 

_“Well this is an adventure,” she says, Scott pulling her into the crowd._

_“No kidding, there has to be ten thousand people here,” he agrees, eyeing the food trucks on every side of them. “Say, how soon do you think those donuts will wear off, eh?”_

_She snorts, reaching out to wipe a bit of leftover glaze that’s crusted over at the corner of his lip and ignoring the way his tongue darts out and brushes her finger. “Maybe once there isn’t any leftover on your face.”_

_“I was saving that,” he accuses. “Now you’ve left me with no choice, I have to go buy myself a hot dog or I’ll starve.” He starts marching over to the nearest truck with a grill out the side._

_“Okay, but I want…”_

_“Fries, I know, curly if they have them!” He calls back without turning around._

 

* * *

 

 

“We get our own pizzas?!” Allie says incredulously.

“Your very own,” Scott says firmly. “So you can put whatever you want on it.”

“Like chocolate?”

“Okay,” Scott says, amending his words, “maybe not everything. But you can pick your own toppings.”

Cooking with Trisha and Allie is an adventure in and of itself. Allie spends fifteen minutes meticulously placing pepperoni slices on top of her carefully spread cheese, while Trisha dumps so much sausage on her pizza that it spills onto the counter and into the sink. After picking off most of it, Scott sends them back into the living room, finding an old Disney movie already queued up on Tessa’s Netflix account to distract them.

“Allie, Trisha, your pizza is ready!” Scott calls several minutes later, sticking the remote through the door of the kitchen and pressing pause on their movie.

“We’re not hungry,” Trisha pouts, the girls sitting in cross-legged on the couch and staring at the TV.

“Oh you’re not, are you? But you worked so hard on these pizzas, I would hate to see them go to waste. Would you be hungry if I let you watch the movie while you got to eat?”

Allie looks shyly at the ground, before nodding her head up and down repeatedly.

“And what would your mom say about you eating pizza on her nice white couch?”

Allie sighs. “She wouldn’t like it.”

“Allie,” Trisha whines, giving sad eyes to Scott.

Scott looks at the pair of them, both pouting now, and drags the white table in front of the TV. “What if you eat here? Then you could be careful and still get to watch your movie.” He sets the slices in front of each chair, and Allie and Trisha jump up to start eating. “Hold on, what do you say to me for finishing your dinner?”

“Thank you,” they say in unison, and Scott smiles. He knows he’s parenting them, and he’s not sure whether it’s a good idea or not, but it comes so naturally to him that he’s not sure he can stop.

Trisha and Allie make it through about a slice and a half each before declaring that they’re full and climbing back onto the couch, Scott catching Allie as she nearly wipes her tomato-sauce covered hands on her mother’s armrests. He stands up, ready to go back to Tessa’s actual table and get some work done.

“Where are you going?” Allie asks curiously. “She’s about to get out of the tower and see the lights!”

“You can sit next to me!” Trisha chirps.

Scott sits in the middle of the couch between his two daughters, and though his mind still has every emotion he’s felt in the last six years brimming at the surface, he can’t find it in him to feel anything in that moment but peace.  

 

* * *

_"Tess, no, please don't make me..."_

_"You’re the one who got me up early today and dragged me to a music festival, this is so not on me.”_

_"I know, but that doesn't mean I- "_

_"You chose this, I’m just helping you fit in."_

_"Ugh, fine." He grabs the ring of daisies out of her hand and firmly plants it on his head. "Happy?"_

* * *

 

 

“Theo, this place looks beautiful,” Tessa gushes, turning around so he can take her raincoat from her and and set it on the back of her chair. _La Piccola Trattoria_ has large windows like the ones at _Virtue & Muldoon, _ light from the street lamps outside flooding the room and illuminating the rainfall. There are fake plants scattered across the large dining room, creating the atmosphere of a rainforest.

 “I know it’s strange to have a different favorite restaurant when it rains, but listen,” Theo says, placing a hand on top of hers. “Hear that?”

 There’s a steady thrumming coming from overhead, and Tessa can feel tension of the past week leaving her shoulders at the soothing tone. “Is that the rain?” Tessa asks, a smile spreading slowly across her face.

 “This place has a tin roof, so you can hear it better. Better than mindless elevator music, right?”

 Tessa nods. Theo starts into a story of discovering the restaurant with three of his hockey friends, all pouring in one night four years ago still sweaty from practice and discovering a roomful of well-dressed people on dates. After they order, they trade childhood stories, her telling him about the decision between ballet and ice dancing, and he talking about growing up as what felt like the only hockey-lover in all of Arizona.

“So were you in London your whole childhood?” He asks as they get their food.

 Tessa’s already halfway through a bite of the best-looking salad she’s ever seen, and she nearly chokes on it before she can answer. “Technically. I really only lived with my parents until I was thirteen; after that, I was in Kitchener-Waterloo for two years, which is about an hour away, and then we moved to Michigan from when I was fifteen until I was twenty-four, and before I moved to New York, I was in Montreal for about four years training and then working.”

 Theo lets out a low whistle. “I can’t imagine being out of the house at thirteen, I was barely able to handle myself when I went into the OHL at eighteen.”

 “It wasn’t easy,” Tessa says, eating another bite of salad.

 “I just remember being really lonely. I was up in Sudbury, two thousand miles away from home and in another country, and they kept telling me I was about to get moved up so I never really got invested in making any friends outside the rink.” Tessa is quiet. “But you had a partner, right?”

 “Right,” Tessa says, her fork twisting lettuce around. “Scott.”

“Scott Moir? I think I’ve seen him, I’m pretty sure he gets another personalized jersey every time we play the Leafs.”

 Tessa’s lip curls up slightly. “They do love him at the ACC.”

 Theo sets a hand on the table, white cloth wrinkling under his fingers. “So was it nice, having someone to go through all that with?”

 She sets her fork down, staring out the broad expanse of windows at the rain visible in the streetlamps. “I couldn’t have done it without him. The moving, the training, the Olympics…any of it.”

He nods, taking a sip of water. “So are you still pretty close?” Tessa looks quickly down at her food, her eyes suddenly burning, and she swallows thickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay,” Tessa says, her voice sad. “Parts of it were a lot easier, having someone by your side. I never felt alone, no matter where we went, and I always knew that he would have my back, just like I would have his. But when you grow up spending that much time with one person….it just got overwhelming. There were times where I didn’t know where I ended and he started. I think it was always going to fall apart eventually.”

 “Was it hard to leave?” 

  _Unbearably. Devastatingly. Suffocatingly. Like cutting off an arm and leg and trying to find a way to walk again._ Tessa doesn’t know how to articulate the rush of feelings pouring through her heart and up to her head, so her answer is short.

 “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

It wasn’t the hardest. The hardest had been not running back to him every single day afterwards.

 

* * *

 

 

_They’re in the middle of the crowd and the sun is starting to set but Scott’s managed to carve out a few feet for them to move, and as the band on stage moves into a slower tune, he drops his hands to her waist, standing behind her and making them sway back and forth._

_“Scott, Marie said no working, and this probably constitutes working.”_

_“It’s just dancing, Tess,” he murmurs into her ear, and she can’t fight the way goosebumps erupt down her bare arms at his low, sultry voice. “No ice involved, therefore not our job.”_

_She’s giggling again; she hasn’t been able to stop all day. “Is this the Montreal version of Scott? I think I like him.”_

_“And it only took four months here for you to figure that out? Tsk Tsk, Ms. Virtue.”_

_“Well that, and your first two beers in several months.”_

_He pouts. “That’s what I get for letting that pretty girl at the festival buy me a drink.” He’s flirting, but she can’t bring herself to mind like she usually does._

_“You really shouldn’t have. She might try to take advantage of you.”_

_He gives her a devilish grin. “I’m counting on it.”_

 

* * *

 

 

“But I don’t want to go to sleep,” Trisha pouts. “Mommy always puts us to bed.”  The girls are in matching rainbow pajamas, teeth brushed, and Scott altogether thinks he’s doing pretty well at this whole being in charge thing ( _Not babysitting,_ he has to remind himself. _You don’t babysit when you’re their father)_. They’ve made their way into their bedroom, but they won’t get into the actual beds.  

“Trisha, sweetheart, you can’t wait up for Mommy. She might be back really late.”

“Why?” Allie asks sullenly, her hands on her nonexistent hips.

“Well,” Scott says, his face growing hot, “they might have a lot to talk about.” He scratches his neck uncomfortably, and the girls give him identical, confused looks, peering up at him from where they’re standing in between their matching purple beds. “What if I tell you a story instead?”

The girls squeal, immediately climbing into Trisha’s bed. “Come on, Scotty, it’s story time!” Trisha calls, patting the space in between them.

“I don’t know if I’m going to fit up there, girls.”

“Sure you can,” Trisha says, and the girls scooch as far apart as they can on the twin size bed, leaving enough room for approximately a third of his body. Scott can’t help but smile, flopping down in between them and sliding an arm around each of them so that they’re partially laying on him.

“So are we going to read a book?”

“No, Mommy always tells us stories,” Allie corrects, in a tone that suggests he should know this already.

Trisha agrees. “Will you tell us the story about the ice prince? The one from Ilterson? That one is our favorite.”

“You mean Ilderton?” Scott says, stunned.

“Yeah!”

“I don’t think I know that one,” he apologizes, and they both look crestfallen. “I have an idea. Why don’t you tell me the story? That way you can be in charge.”

“Okay!” Allie says. “It always starts with once upon a time.”

Trisha takes the lead, squirming around against the wall. “Once upon a time, there was a girl in London. Her mommy and daddy took her to the Ilderton Castle, because she wanted to be an ice dancing princess.”

“And when she got there, she met an ice dancing prince, who said to her that she could be more than just an ice princess, she could be the best ice princess ever. But she was scared.” Allie adds. She frowns. “That’s all I remember.”

“That’s okay,” Scott says softly. “I think I remember the story now.” He squeezes the girls a little closer to his chest, and they happily snuggle up against him. “You see, the thing is girls, the princess never had any reason to be scared. One look at her and the prince knew that she was going to be the best ice princess that had ever gone to Ilderton Castle. And, even better, the ice dance princess let the ice prince be _her_ prince, even when they left Ilderton Castle and moved to a castle of their own. They got to travel to new kingdoms like Japan and Korea and Russia, and even though the ice princess got hurt sometimes and sometimes they didn’t always dance the way they practiced, lots of people still said that they were the best.”

“What were they best at?” Trisha asks, her voice sleepy.

Scott takes a long, deep breath, looking at each of the girls laying across him. “I don’t think they were ever sure about that themselves.”

 

* * *

  

_"I can't believe we were out all day, we're going to be so exhausted on Monday."_

_"I can't believe how much beer we got on ourselves, we might need to shampoo until Monday."_

_She giggles, reaching up to brush his sticky hair away from his face. "No takebacks on this hair thing, you promised to grow it out and I'm holding you to that."_

_He twists his fingers into her own dark waves. "You sure you're not worried that I'll have a better mane than you?" He mutters, his face drawing closer. She lifts her hand up and places it over his, pressing it down just over her heart._

_“Never going to happen, Moir.”_

 

* * *

 

 

“You were right, you know, I do love art museums, and I’m always up for an extra trip to the MOMA,” Tessa says, falling into step next to him. The rain has finally stopped, and with it the temperature is now significantly cooler. When she shivers in her dress, Theo slips off his suit jacket and puts it over her shoulders.

“I had a feeling,” Theo answers cheekily. “You are an artist, after all.”

Tessa crinkles her eyebrows. “I don’t know if I would say that.”

“Come on, you were a dancer first, that’s performance art, and now you’re in fashion, which is art that you wear. I don’t think your career path has really changed that much.”

“I guess you’re right,” she comments. “I still think of myself as an athlete.”

“That too,” he agrees. “All in all, wonderfully talented and woefully out of your mind in agreeing to go out with me.” He slips his hand into hers, twisting their fingers together.

His hand dwarfs hers, and she finds herself fumbling for words, confused by the unfamiliar sensation. “I don’t know about that.”

Theo exhales, turning to give her a sideways glance as they walk down the wet sidewalk. “Do you know why I wanted to ask you out?” 

“Because I’m always stress-free and have a ton of free time?”

He chuckles. “No, that can’t be it. The first time I met you and Natalia, when you were at MSG working out a deal for your company to be a sponsor for the Rangers. You were wearing a black v-neck with a very obvious spaghetti stain on it, which come to think of it, was probably from one of your girls. Mahoney, that guy that used to be on the defensive line, was being a dick and asked you if you were doing it so you could date one of the players, and you spun around, faster than I’ve ever seen before, and said ‘Let’s just get one thing straight, I’m a Leafs girl’, and you had this fiery look on your face, combined with something that I couldn’t quite figure out. It took me a while to realize you were just plain sad.” He squeezes her hand. “I just thought, maybe it won’t be me that gets to do it, but I’d like a chance to make that sadness in your eyes go away.”

“You’re doing okay,” she says, her voice breathy, suddenly realizing they’re at the entrance to her brownstone. When Theo kisses her softly, quickly, she tries to force her mind to clear.

She still breathes a sigh of relief when the door of her building is closed.

 

* * *

 

 

_She opens the condo door he's just closed, and he’s only made it ten feet away._

_"This was fun.”_

" _I thought so too," Scott answers with a crooked smile._

 _"Did it kind of feel like a date to you?"_  

 _The smile falls from his face, and he gives her an inquisitive look as he walks back towards her. "Do you want it to be a date?"_  

_She leans against the doorway, and when his fingers lace with hers against her waist, an overwhelming sense of comfort washes over her. "I don't know."_

_He takes a step toward her, pressing the softest of kisses against her forehead. "Let's not worry about it then."_

 

* * *

 

When she makes it inside her apartment, it’s dark, a single lamp on in the living room and soft light coming from the girls’ bedroom. The door is still open.

Scott is asleep on Trisha’s bed, and each of the twins has one of his arms wrapped around them snugly. As much as they look like him when they’re wide awake, they resemble him even more asleep, all three curled up together awkwardly, big and small limbs sticking out in every direction. Tessa has her phone out to take a picture before she can second-guess herself, and when she gets the snap she wants, she shuts the light off, closing the door behind her. 

As she reaches her closet and slips her heels and dress off, her mind wanders back to a warm music festival in July of 2016, a day when it had felt like there was nothing on Earth to be worried about, a day when she’d let loose with her best friend that no one could take away from her, a day when neither of them were quite willing to admit that everything was about to change.

It had taken almost a year for her to realize that the whole day had been the last first date she ever wanted to go on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is coming. Not sure when, but it's coming. Thanks for all the support :)


	6. You Have A Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes time for dust to settle, but that doesn't help when you need a clear picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are wonderful. I've been meaning to mention that you can bug me on Tumblr or, newly, Twitter (fitslikeakey and @fitslikeakey) with your questions or thoughts or general fangirling, I enjoy finding all of it and hearing what you think. 
> 
>  
> 
> Happy reading!

 

“No.”

“I’m not asking permission.”

“Scott, it’s not happening.”

“You don’t get to decide that, Tessa,” Scott retorts, his voice pushing the boundaries of what can be considered a whisper as he follows her from her dryer to her bedroom, laundry basket in tow.

“It’s not a good idea.”

“How could it be a bad idea to take our daughters skating?” Scott challenges her, dumping the clean clothes onto Tessa’s bed. They sit down on it at opposite ends, Tessa leaning against the pillows and Scott at the foot, and in sync, Tessa starts folding the girls’ shirts while Scott sorts out their socks.

“In New York, we’re safe, there are so many people here that no one notices us, but at a rink, someone might recognize us. And if they do? There’s going to be a headline about us with a nice blurry video of the girls on ET Canada.”

“Blurry,” Scott says insistently, “and we’ll be careful. I will make sure there are no cameras.”

“And what about your family? Have you told them about the girls?” Scott’s mouth closes. “That’s what I thought.”

Scott sits there seething for a minute, and it is with grit that he finally continues. “They are the children of two Olympic ice dancers and they deserve to know it,” Scott says, “and how I decide to deal with the mess that _you created_ is none of your business.”

“I created?” Tessa asks. “And you had nothing to do with it.” Her tone is piercing and cold.

Scott is fuming. “We are not having this conversation right now.” He jumps off the bed, leaving a small mountain of sock balls. “Skating may have been something that you could just brush off like a hobby, but it’s my life and my entire family’s life and Allie and Trisha are my family. I am taking them ice-skating and you are not going to stop me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Nine hours later, Tessa is still angry. “I mean what right does he have,” she spits into the phone as she opts to take stairs to her office, “what right does he have to come here and expect me to rearrange my whole life to fit his whims? And right before Fashion Week, no less.”

“Tess,” Kate’s voice says exasperatedly into her ear. “I must have missed something. At what point did he ask you to go with him?”

“I mean- he can’t have- He is not taking the girls ice-skating without me!” She exclaims, rounding up to the fourth floor. “That is something we should do together.”

“Kind of like raising children for five years?”

Tessa groans as she enters the office, the room covered in seamstresses and models in various stages of dresses. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Well Scott called about an hour ago and told me not to worry, he’d take the girls to preschool today, and that he was going to pop over at lunchtime with Thai food so we could keep catching up on HGTV, so…”

“Never mind then.”

“Isn’t he also the only reason you’ve eaten dinner the past five nights?”

“Moooomm” She whines, suddenly feeling about ten years old as she tries to navigate through the masses of people arguably breaking fire code in front of her desk. “The most stressful part of the job is coming up, I’ve been busy.”

“I’m just telling you, hon, if you’re going to start pointing fingers, you’d better be ready for about ten of them to come straight back at you.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.” Tessa finally passes through the crowd. “Oh,” she gasps. There’s a giant arrangement of red roses on her desk, so many that the vase takes up nearly a quarter of her desk and brushes up against her computer monitor. “Oh, Mom.”

“What?”

There’s a card poking out of the top, _Tessa_ scrawled out in unfamiliar handwriting with a little winking smiley face. _I know you’re in the middle of a tough time at work, just wanted to make sure at some point you would have to stop and smell the roses. XO Theo._ Even though she knows that only someone who doesn’t really know her would choose roses, Tessa smiles a little.

“Nothing- I better get to work.”

“Tessa...”

“Fine,” she retorts. “I will take your advice about skating under consideration.”

But if she’s being honest with herself, she knows Scott has won even before she gets home that night and sees the tiny pairs of white figure skates under the hall table.

 

* * *

 

 

 

They walk to the mostly-empty rink late in the afternoon on Friday that week, Trisha and Allie buried under coats, scarves, and hats despite the warm air outside. Scott breathes a sigh of relief even before they enter the rink, it’s been almost a month since he last touched the ice and his legs have been aching to get back on it.

Trisha is excited, and Scott has to remind her to be still four times as he laces her skates onto her feet. Allie is a little bit more cautious, her eyes darting nervously toward the window in the lobby area that shows a full view of the ice rink. “Don’t be scared, sweetie,” Tessa says reassuringly. “You’ll be a natural- and your da- Scott and I will be there the whole time.” Allie nods as Tessa finishes tying her left skate, and the girls are both antsy as Tessa and Scott lace their own onto their feet.

“Tessa!” A voice calls out cheerfully from behind them as they all start to stand up. Tessa winces. There’s an older man walking towards them, hair gray and thin with a thick mustache on his face. “You’re here later than usual today, and did you bring your family, this time?” He eyes up Scott carefully, and Scott sticks out his hand before Tessa can stop him.

“Scott Moir, sir.” He says politely, shaking his hand.

“Name’s Gary,” the man answers. “I run this rink so that this lady can avoid her responsibilities once a week.” Tessa blushes, and Gary grins, clearly delighted. “She’s never mentioned kids, though!”

“We’re pretty private people,” Tessa throws in, and Gary nods, unbothered. “Scott, Gary is a fellow Canadian transplant.”

“And they convinced you to stay?” Scott asked.

“Married an American, has a funny way of forcing you. I’m lucky the Rangers play here so I can get some hockey though, I’ll never understand the American preoccupation with football.”

“You and me both, sir,” Scott says seriously. “What’s sports without a few good punches?”

Gary’s laughing, and he looks back at Tessa. “I like him, milady.” Tessa tries to remember how annoyed she had been earlier in the week, but she can’t, especially with the way Trisha is holding his hand and beaming up at him. “Anyway, I’ve got to get back to work, but the rink is all yours- we don’t open to the public until seven. You know how to operate the music. Have fun!”

Tessa squeezes Allie’s hand, ignoring the smirk she knows is on Scott’s face as he watches Gary disappear into the skate rental closet. “You ready to go skating?” Trisha cheers, and Allie nods determinedly. They push through the doors into the rink, and when Allie and Trisha hold hands, they all take the ice together.

It doesn’t last long, though, Trisha is ready to take off even before Tessa, and Allie lets go of Scott’s hand almost immediately. “Okay maybe you should take Trish and I’ll help Allie….” Tessa starts, but Scott’s already halfway back to her. Allie is clinging to the boards for dear life, legs spreading out in both directions so she’s almost sitting on the ice. Scott skids to a stop next to her, dropping immediately to his knees and speaking to her quietly.

“Are you okay?” He asks her, and she bobs her head up and down even as she looks at him, terrified. “That’s good,” he reassures her. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“It’s my job to teach people how to skate. They give me money to do that! I promise, I’m really good at it, and I won’t even charge you for it.”

“You do?” Allie says, and he nods.

“I’m really good at skating, I promise. Do you want to show you?”

“Yeah!” She chirps excitedly.

“Stay right there, okay?” Scott takes off backwards, watching Allie. He turns into a single axel as he rounds the first corner, and as he passes Tessa and Trisha at the third corner, he stops and swings his right foot around into a spin, left leg bent into a squat. As he comes back to her, he spins around several times. “How was that?” He says, a wide smile on his face. Allie reaches out to him, and when he takes her hand, she gingerly lets go of the wall.

Scott lets her set the pace, whispering instructions to her as she starts to push her legs back and forth. She picks it up quickly, but it’s nothing compared to Trisha- she’s already gone around the rink nearly four times, and Tessa is holding both of her hands and teaching her how to go backwards. “Isn’t this fun, Allie?” Trisha squeals.

They stay in pairs for a while, Trisha excitedly tugging along a bemused Tessa while Scott remains patient with Allie, guiding her through exactly what she’s ready for, nothing more, nothing less. Trisha is already doing her best (with some graceful falls) to do some spins around the ice, Tessa holding her up more often than not.

“You know who can do spins really well?” Scott says seriously to the girls as they’re all leaning against the boards close to seven, taking a break. “Your mom. She is like an expert at spinning on the ice.”

“Mommy, do a spin!” Allie begs, letting go of the boards to grab onto her mother. Scott has to catch her when she loses her balance.

Tessa obediently takes a couple turns around the ice alone, showing off, and the girls’ shrieks of delight are better than any judging Tessa and Scott have ever received. “You are very good at that, Mommy,” Trisha says, and Scott chokes back a laugh at the note of surprise in her voice.

“Scott and I have been doing this a long time, bug,” Tessa says, skating back to her face and kissing the top of Trisha’s head. “We even used to dance on ice together, can you even imagine?”

“Can we see, Mommy, please?” Trisha says, bouncing slightly as she grips the boards.

Tessa bites her lip, looking at Scott. The question is in her eyes as well.

He won’t look back at her. “Maybe some other time, girls. We’ve got to get going- we picked out a special movie to watch tonight, remember!”

In a moment, the girls have forgotten the rejection, but Tessa doesn’t. It takes a while before she realizes that he’d barely looked at her, let alone touched her, the entire time they had been on the ice.

 

* * *

 

 

 

By the time the movie is over that night, Allie is completely asleep, and Trisha’s eyes are halfway closed. Tessa exhales at the sight, and Scott feels his heart swelling beyond his control. He lifts Allie up off the couch carefully, holding her to his chest as he carries her horizontally to the girls’ bedroom. He sets her in her bed, allowing himself to kiss her tenderly on the forehead and whisper “Goodnight, my little one” so that Trisha and Tessa can’t hear it from the other room. Allie doesn’t stir.

When he gets back to the living room, Trisha is sitting up tiredly. Tessa brushes her hair back from her face soothingly. “Trish, are you ready to go to sleep?” She nods tiredly, holding her arms up to Scott, who can’t help but smile. He looks over at Tessa, who nods in approval before shifting so he can lift Trisha up into his arms the same way he did for Allie. Trisha immediately tucks herself into him, laying her head on his shoulder as if it were a pillow.

Scott deposits Trisha as gently as he can, trying not to disturb her twin. “Go to sleep, we’ll be here in the morning,” Tessa whispers from the door.

“Okay,” Trisha answers in the sweetest sleepy voice Scott’s ever heard. “Good night Mommy, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Good night, peanut,” Scott says, kneeling at the side of her bed and rubbing her cheek with his thumb. “We’ll have more adventures tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Trisha says, her eyes drifting shut. “Good night Daddy, I love you.” She’s asleep before she has finished her sentence. Scott’s thumb stops dead in the center of her cheek, and his eyes fly up to Tessa’s. Her hand has flown up to cover her mouth, and she looks stunned. He stands up as quietly as he can, shutting off the lamp between the girls’ beds, and they silently go back to the couch.

“I didn’t tell them.” Scott’s heart is pounding for some reason, and he can’t quite get a handle on the emotions running through his head, tenderness, and love and the same feeling for Trisha and Allie that he’s always had with Tessa, simultaneously not wanting to hold her back and at the same time wanting to protect her from the whole world.

“I know you didn’t.” Tessa takes Allie’s spot out the couch, and swings her legs up onto the cushions, pulling the thin blanket Allie had been using over her lower half.

“Should I tell her not to call me that?”

 The question is posed innocently, but Tessa can tell by the look in his eyes that the answer means everything. “No,” she replies simply. “As long as you’re not going anywhere. They were going to figure it out eventually.”

He’s a little choked up as he responds. “There is nothing on earth that could keep me from those girls.”

Tessa looks at him. There’s earnestness in his expression, his jaw set determinedly. It’s the same expression he’d nearly twenty years ago, when he’d promised never to take the ice with anyone but her, and a decade ago, when they had decided to return to ice dance competition, and eight years ago when they had taken the ice for the free dance that had changed their lives forever, and seven years ago, when he’d told her that he had been in love with her for his entire life. There are many things about thirty-eight year old Scott that she doesn’t understand anymore, but this, this is the face of the man she knows. “You are their father, Scott. They are yours, as much as they are mine. Just-please don’t take them away from me.”

Scott’s hand shoots across the couch and covers hers, and he scoots closer to her. “Tess,” he says, in a gravelly, drawn out way that makes Tessa shiver a little, “I know I’ve been angry with you, but you know I would never, ever do that to you.”

Tessa bites her lip, remembering his rejection on the ice from earlier that evening. “Can you ever forgive me for keeping them from you?”

There are too many thoughts running through his head at the idea, the pain of the last six years pumping through his blood like a second heartbeat. Yet even as he feels his body tense at the memories, he’s reminded of the sweet girls sleeping a few walls away, and the innocent way Trisha had called him “Daddy”, without truly knowing who he was, anywhere but in her heart. He sees Tessa’s terrified eyes, and thinks of what Kate had told him, the years of beating herself up and throwing herself into her work and motherhood.

“I want to, Tessa. Believe or not, I do.” He says, his voice thick and his eyes glassy. “But after everything…I just don’t know how.” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“I really am sorry, Scott.” She takes his hand. “I should have told you about the girls. It was selfish, and unforgivable, and I’m sorry.”

He sighs, leaning over and propping his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. “It’s so much more than just that, Tess. It wasn’t just my girlfriend or partner or whatever we were leaving me, you were my best friend, too. I lost that, too. And when my mom got sick, I needed her more than anything.” He looks back up at her, and there’s a tear coming down his face. “I know you were upset with me, but my mom deserved better from you, she- she loved you like you were her own daughter, and you knew that.” His voice gets louder, and his eyes flash in anger as he looks up at her. “How could you abandon her like that? I know you knew, know your mom would have told you, and yet you just stayed away and ignored it.”

“I didn’t,” she answers, staring at her white rug, so softly that Scott could have imagined it. “Scott, I didn’t ignore it. Your mom meant the world to me, too. I could never have ignored her. I flew to see her on a Wednesday, right after I found out. Your brothers were at work and you were stuck in Montreal and my mom and I went to go see her together, and she decided that you were better off not knowing. After that I called her every chance I got, until she couldn’t pick up the phone anymore.” She glances back at him, her eyes broken. “I couldn’t fly to the funeral, even if I had wanted to.”

“Was it because you were sick?”

Her lips part, and her eyebrows jump up. “It was.”

Scott is silent, his whole body throbbing from the way his heart is pounding. “Did you tell her about what happened between us?”

“She never asked.” Tessa’s feeling bold, and she reaches a hand out to his thigh, trying to steady his breathing. “To be honest, I could tell that she was concerned about you at the time, she always danced around the topic of you, just like I did, but I think she was convinced that it wouldn’t last.”

“Why?”

“Because two months before she died, she mailed me a letter, and told me to give it to you when I was ready.”

Suddenly Tessa’s fingers brushing up on his leg are hot like iron. “She- she did?”

Tessa gets up, walking down the hallway to her bedroom in what feels like slow motion. When she returns, she’s holding a thin, worn envelope. “It’s sealed, Scott. I’ve never read it. It’s between you two.” She hands it to him, and there’s _Scotty_ scratched across the front in achingly familiar handwriting, and Scott’s hands start shaking so badly that he unconsciously grabs Tessa’s hand as she sits back down on the couch. He starts to read.

_Dear Scotty,_

_Well son, I think it’s close to the end for me._

_I think Tessa knows it, too, she was calling me every few days for a while there and lately I don’t get past seven pm without my phone ringing. I think the doctors at this damn hospital know it too, they’ve stopped using words like ‘aggressive treatment’ and ‘operational’ and moved more towards things like ‘we just want you to be more comfortable, Mrs. Moir’ and ‘this is just a necessary procedure, Mrs. Moir’. I think you know it, too, that has to be why you insist on driving down from Montreal every weekend- you’re not getting enough sleep as it is, even without that nasty commute._

_I’m worried about you, Scotty. You’ve been telling me not to be worried for weeks but I can’t help it, I’m a mother whether I’m healthy or sick and you’re my baby whether you’re two or thirty-two, and I’m scared for you, more even than I am for myself. I can’t even begin to understand why you and Tessa aren’t speaking right now, why the life is gone from your eyes and her voice sounds so small and hesitant on my phone. I can’t begin to imagine, so I’m doing my best not to, to focus on loving you and supporting you for as long as I can._

_Since you will have reunited to read this letter, I feel no qualms in telling you that Tessa misses you desperately too, sounds like she’s ill herself. I know there are things you aren’t telling me Scott, about what she did and you said, just like I know there are things she’s not telling me about what you’ve done. It’s somehow the most incredible and yet unsurprising thing of all; even in the biggest fight of your lives, you’re still trying to protect each other. Scott, you and Tessa, you’re going to get through this. Kate and I have watched from the sidelines for your entire lives, watched as you competed, as you became best friends, as you spent twenty years dancing around the ice and around the fact that you were two halves of a perfect whole. Kate and I believe in you two, sweetheart. You may have been great skaters, but you’re even better friends, and no matter what happened in Montreal six months ago, what hurt lies between you, the pair of you can get through it._

_That’s why I’m writing, Scotty, because I think that by the time you’re ready to hear this, I might not around to tell you, why I’m entrusting it into the safekeeping of your best friend, current separation be damned. Scotty, I’m so proud of you. You are so much more than anything your father and I could have imagined, so much more than we would have dared wish for. You’re a decorated Olympian, sure- but you’re also the most incredible son, brother, uncle, coach, and yes, best friend._

_Don’t fret over me, Scott, for my days have been long and wonderful, and they come to an end with more happiness than any one person deserves. I’ll keep cheering you on from the great beyond, my son, and I’ll never be less than completely proud of you- for isn’t unconditional love what it means to be a parent?_

_I love you, Scotty. And I always, always will.  – XO Mom_

There are tears streaming down his face that have been waiting six years to fall, and he sets the slightly damp page down onto the coffee table with both eyes closed, his head filled with the image of his sick mother in the hospital room, using what little strength she had left to compose him a letter, a letter that had exactly the right words even without any knowledge of the situation. “Unconditional love,” he says weakly. “That’s what it means to be a parent.”

Tessa nods, though she’s clearly confused. “You’re doing a pretty incredible job of that so far. Not that I’m surprised.”

“Those girls,” he starts, “they’re everything to me, Tess.”

“I know,” she answers, and she does, knows the look that had been in his eyes when he’d spun the girls around at the skating rink, the look that had been in his eyes when he’d dressed them up to go to the playground three Saturdays in a row, the look that had been in his eyes when Trisha had sleepily called him Daddy without any thought, the look that she’d seen in his eyes for twenty years as they glided across every ice rink in the world.

“To love them fully…” He says slowly, “I can’t be fighting with their mother all the time.”

“Scott, you don’t have to…”

“No Tess, I do.” He interrupts. “If I’m going to be a part of their lives, I have to be a part of your life, too, regardless of what’s happened between us. What you did hurt, Tess, but the idea of hurting those girls is far worse.”

He stops, then, shutting his eyes and wiping at his wet eyelashes with his pinkies. He then shifts, facing his whole body to her. “Tess, I forgive you.”

Her heart stops in her chest, but she can see in the earnestness of his eyes that he believes what he is saying. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Maybe,” he acknowledges, his eyes glancing over toward the girls’ bedroom. “But Trisha and Allie do, and that’s enough for me.”

The air is tense, and Tessa doesn’t know whether to feel exhilarated or broken, just knows that the weight of six years of guilt is starting to loosen from her shoulders and it’s a load she’s been carrying so long that letting it go feels a little strange. “Thank you,” she whispers, and it means more than just for forgiveness.

Scott smiles, then, a genuine smile that she hasn’t seen directed at her in years, and it breaks her and puts her back together all at once. “You know,” he says, “there is one burning thought that’s been going through my mind.”

She raises an eyebrow, his smile causing a smile of her own. “Yes?”

He pauses, and he always _did_ know how to diffuse tension.

“Please tell me that my daughters are Canadian.”

Tessa laughs then, a deep, throaty laugh that makes her entire body shake, and she does it again when she sees him pouting at her, a satisfied grin hidden at the corners of his mouth. “They are Canadian,” she confirms. “They’ve only been twice, but they will have the same rights as you and me. I knew better than to forget to fill out _that_ application.”

Scott lets out an overdramatic sigh of relief. “I really couldn’t have forgiven you if I had American children.” He lets go of her hand. “Want to watch another movie?”

“Okay, but you know it’s going to be something older than our parents.” Scott groans, even as he drops her hand and swings an arm around her on her side of the couch. As Tessa clicks on a movie and Humphrey Bogart fills the screen, she starts to relax.

It’s with a little bit of sadness though, because his forgiveness, it’s not enough, not really. She knows he’s being honest about forgiving her for Trisha and Allie, but there’s still space between them- literally and figuratively. He’s left several inches of space between their legs on the couch, whereas for years he would have pulled her into his side. His arm is high up on the back of the couch, where once it would have been tightly wrapped around her waist. They might look like friends to anyone who doesn’t know them, but they had never had a typical friendship.

Scott hasn’t truly forgiven her. Not for everything. He probably hasn’t even realized it himself, but he’s still holding in some of his hurt. Tessa sits up straighter, a new wave of determination sweeping through her. If she caused this disaster years ago, then she is determined to finish it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: Well, they were going to find out eventually.


	7. Eyes that Know Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tessa and Scott may or may not know what the hell they are doing.

In the week following Tessa and Scott’s tentative truce, everything feels different. Tessa finds herself surrounded by what has tended to be in the periphery of her vision. She sees the cute bistro on her way to work that Scott takes her to with the girls after work one day, where he bribes the waiter to pretend that the broccoli in their fettucini alfredo are little magical trees. She notices the hanging baskets out every window of her brownstone; he brings home a fresh planter for her own one day after insisting that she must not have watered her plants in half a decade (she hasn’t). Then he spends the next two hours walking with the girls around their area of Greenwich Village to point out all the flowers he insists they’re missing out on by growing up in New York City. On her own, she notices how white her apartment is, and one evening she brings home a new red throw and matching pillows to put on her couch along with a framed Canadian flag to put in the girls’ room.

Theo’s around the corners of her vision, too. He’s taken to sending her quotes every morning about the importance of relaxing, and she doesn’t have the heart to tell him that she feels more at ease than she has in a long time. They go out a couple more times, and it feels nice, comfortable even. Even though she’s known him for a while, she’s surprised by how little they know each other, and she starts to fill him in on the details of her life, little by little. It’s two weeks after their first date when she educates him on the importance of good lighting when she posts a picture of them onto her barely-used Instagram account- a big step, they both agree. She tries not to think about the thrill she gets at the grumpy look Scott gets on his face when he sees the picture.

Scott’s not in the periphery- he never has been- but she pays attention to him, too. It’s not her fault when she notices how well he’s maintained his athletic shape over the past few years, or when she licks her lips appreciatively at that same black v-neck he keeps wearing around the apartment, it’s merely appreciating the human form. It’s not his fault, either, when she has to inhale sharply on Saturday afternoon when she’s on a tall stool trying to grab the peanut butter out of the top shelf of the kitchen cabinets and he places both his hands on her waist to steady her; it’s like muscle memory, it was his job for twenty-two years to keep her safe from falling. It’s definitely not her fault that she gets a goofy grin on her face every time she watches him playing around with the girls, they’re her daughters and he is their father and why wouldn’t any mother be thrilled to see that?

Trisha doesn’t call him Daddy again, and every single night when he helps her put them to bed, she can see the disappointment in his eyes. She knows it was more of a wish than an accident, no matter how sleepy Trisha was, knows that Trisha and Allie adore Scott and that it’s going to be a tough adjustment when he goes back to Montreal. She gets her proof the day that Scott has to leave for Boston.

“But we don’t want you to go,” Allie begs, and Scott looks genuinely devastated by the pout in her lips.

“It’s just for a couple days, girls, I’ll be back,” he says softly, kneeling down next to his duffel bag to give them hugs.

“Why can’t you stay with us?” Trisha says, tugging on his jeans. “We wanted to go to the park this Saturday, you ‘member?”

“Trish,” Scott says with a laugh, “we go to the park every week. I bet your mom wants to take you.”

“But she doesn’t know how to play Big Monster!” Allie whines, and Tessa raises her eyebrows at him from where she’s watching a few feet away, leaning against the wall of the hallway.

“I bet you can teach her, Allie,” Scott reassures her. “And then, when I get back, all _four_ of us can play.”

Trisha bites her lip, but Allie lets out a little squeal of excitement. Scott wraps an arm all the way around each of them, lifting them off the ground and holding them up horizontally, their legs dangling. “It’s just for a little while, girls, and when I get back I can tell you all about the skating that my teams are doing, maybe I can even show you what they look like. Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah,” they chorus in response, and he sets them down gently, kissing each of them on the cheek.

“And you?” He stands back up, looking at Tessa with his eyes twinkling.

“I won’t miss you,” she says, teasing.

“Is that true?” He asks, and he moves over toward her. “You might starve.” He leans over her, the air in the apartment suddenly hot, and even though she can tell by the twitch at the corner of his mouth that he’s just teasing her right back, she can’t help but gulp. “The girls told me what you’ve been feeding them the last few years, and let me just tell you, I’m a little distressed by it.”

“Oh really?” Her voice is breathy. “Well then I guess you’ve got a good reason to come back.”

“Guess so,” he breathes into her ear, and his hand is on her waist again. Her eyes start to close.

They open again quickly, though, because all of a sudden he’s backing away, looking startled, as if he’s the one being backed into a corner, not her. “All right,” he says, leaning over to grab his duffel, “I’ll be back soon. “And girls,” he says seriously, pointing his finger at them, “don’t let your mom eat my chocolate.”

“I won’t,” Allie promises, and she looks so sincere that both Scott and Tessa have to smile. With an exaggerated salute, Scott’s gone.

*****

Scott’s train ride is nearly five and a half hours, and he spends most of it listening to music, trying to think of inspiration for his teams’ dances for the upcoming season. Matt and Fatima’s are easy, they take after the ethereal style that had become so popular as he and Tessa were retiring, and Fatima has been emailing him music clips for weeks. Cam and Noah’s short dance is relatively simple, they’ve cycled back to tango romantica and that’s always been a strength of Scott’s. Their free dance, however, is a blurry image in his head, he can’t quite nail down a description of the emotion he wants to capture and he’s not sure what Cam and Noah are ready for, either.

He’s mulling it over the next morning as he walks into the arena in Boston, headphones stuck in his ears and his eyes glued to his playlists. He nearly walks into a door when he gets a picture from Tessa of the girls in their pajamas, pouting, their small arms crossed and their eyebrows furrowed in a way Scott’s seen Tessa pout a thousand times. She’s captioned the picture _This is what I had to deal with at bedtime. Come back soon._

Scott’s still grinning about it a couple minutes later as he enters the rink, his skates laced up. “SCOTT!” he hears, and Cam is barreling towards him, her partner not far behind. He catches her just far enough from the boards that he doesn’t slam into the glass, swinging her around happily. “Good to see you too, Sodano,” he says, ruffling her hair. “You been keeping Noah out of trouble?”

“Hardly,” Noah says, and Scott can immediately tell that he’s in a foul mood. “We’ve barely seen each other since the banquet.”

Scott shoots a confused look to Cam, who shrugs. “I went home to Hamilton, went on vacation, finished grade eleven. I was busy.”  She twists her mouth, though, and he knows that she’s feeling guilty about it.

“Well rest easy,” he tries, “because pretty soon you’ll be back to ten hours a day together.” He claps Noah on the back, pretending he doesn’t notice when Noah grumbles under his breath. “I’m going to find Fatima and Matty, you two try to stay out of trouble and make me look good.”

An hour later, Scott is in the stands, taking notes on the instructors, on Fatima’s footwork, on Noah’s holds. He’s gotten at least six pages into his new notebook when Patch sits down next to him silently.

“Where the hell have you been?” Patch says, and it’s under his breath even though there’s no one around them.

“You know where I’ve been,” Scott says, his tone level.

“You’re right,” Patch says, “I guess a better question is what the hell have you been doing with Tessa for over a month.”

“I told you on the phone, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Scott, I know you. It’s always what it sounds like when it comes to you and Tessa, whether the pair of you know it or not.”

“It’s different this time, really.”

Patrice groans. “Do you hear yourself? You sound like a twenty-three year old single girl in a romantic comedy. Do I need to remind you what the entire year of 2020 was like for you? You were pretty drunk for most of it, you may not remember that.”

“No- Patrice, don’t…”

“She broke you, Scott. And what, a few weeks with her and all of sudden you’re the happiest I’ve seen you in years. What happens when it’s over again, when she leaves you again?”

“She won’t,” Scott says firmly, and he’s staring at his teams on the ice, willing away the images prickling at the corners of his mind.

Patrice grips his knee, and it’s so firm that Scott winces a bit. “I did not tell you where she was so that you could run after her and pretend she didn’t leave you in the dust. I told you so you could get some damn closure.” Scott’s silent, watching some Russian instructor attempting to teach Matt and Fatima a lift that he immediately knows doesn’t suit them at all. “And what about your teams? One of them never left Montreal, and the other has been back for a week already, they’re missing out on training time, why aren’t you…”

“STOP,” Scott shouts, and it’s not loud enough to warrant the attention of all the teams in the rink, but he sees his sending him curious looks from their positions on the ice.

Patch looks embarrassed. “Scott,” he tries, his tone more somber, “you know Marie and I are just looking out for you.”

“I know,” Scott says. “Believe me, I get it, I know that year was hard on you too, and I will always be grateful for you taking care of me, but I swear, Patch, I have not been in New York for five weeks just forgetting everything that happened and getting back together.”

Patch’s expression softens. “Is she okay?”

He nods. “Taking over the damn world, just like we all predicted.” He tries not to sound too proud.

“Then why…” Patch starts, but he’s interrupted by the arrival of his most senior team.

Scott slips away, feeling very grateful to have avoided the question altogether.

****

“So your parents are divorced?” Theo asks, taking a sip of orange juice. It’s Monday and they’re at a brunch place near the park. Theo is about halfway through a giant stack of blueberry pancakes, and Tessa nearly finished with her fourth strip of bacon and her omelet.

Tessa nods. “In my early twenties. My mom got the house, my dad got a new family in Toronto and has called about five total times since then.”

Theo whistles in a low voice. “Not sure if that’s better or worse than my story.”

“Your parents aren’t together either?”

“Ha.” Theo says. “A name is about all I ever got out of my father.”

“I don’t know which is worse,” Tessa agrees. “My dad broke my heart pretty badly when he left.”

“What about your girls?” Theo asks. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You mentioned that they like their dad.”

“They do,” she nods, “but it’s hard. He doesn’t live in New York, so they don’t get to see him all the time.” It’s not a lie, even if it feels sort of like it is. “Is that better?” She says suddenly. “I don’t know.”

“Better that they know their dad? Know he loves them?” Theo snorts. “I only have experience the other way, so I can’t say for sure, but if I’d known that my dad gave a damn about me, wanted me to have a good life? Well it would have made a pretty big difference when I was growing up, even if I did turn out all right.”

Several hours later, Theo’s words are still bouncing around her head as she’s putting Allie and Trisha to bed. “Girls,” she says, tucking Allie into bed. “You know that I love you, right?”

“Yes Mommy,” they answer, almost lazily.

“Who else do you know that loves you?”

Trisha pipes in first. “Grandma!”

Allie fills in some of the details. “Miss Nancy, and Aunt Tallie and Aunt Jordan.”

Trisha fills in some of the other family members, and then her eyes light up. “Scott!”

“Scott loves you?” Tessa asks.

“He tells us sometimes before bed, so you can’t hear.”

Tessa ignores her heart fluttering, ignores the sad way Scott had frowned as the girls had begged him not to leave the day before. “Is there anyone else who loves you?”

They both look like they’re thinking too hard about it. “Daddy?” Allie asks, her voice soft.

“We don’t have a Daddy, Allie,” Trisha says, and Allie puts her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest. “Remember, Aidan told us.”

“Who’s Aidan?” Tessa asks.

“A boy at school,” Allie answers glumly. “He said if we don’t know who our daddy is than we must not have one.”

“Well Aidan is wrong,” Tessa answers, whispering. She kneels down in between the beds, and she reaches out with each arm so that she can hold Allie’s and Trisha’s hands at the same time. “You have a daddy, girls. And he loves you more than life itself.”

She’s never made up her mind so fast in her life.

********

The next day at camp, Cam and Noah are barely speaking to each other. “You’re holding me _too tight,_ Noah,” Cam exclaims, pulling his hands off her waist.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have to hold on so tight if you were actually paying attention to the steps, _Cameron_.” He retorts.

Scott is twenty feet away and he can still hear them arguing. There are ten minutes left in the lunch hour, luckily, but as usual Cam and Noah are electing to practice during all of their available free time. “What is going _on,_ guys?”

“Noah is being an ass,” Cameron complains, skating toward the boards for her water. Scott sees her fingers trembling probably even before she notices it.

“An ass who gives a damn about your safety,” Noah snaps back. “My apologies.”

“Noah,” Scott says warningly, his voice low. “You’re giving her anxiety. You’re better than that.” Noah huffs, but Scott can tell immediately that he feels bad. “Cam,” he calls after her, “what have we talked about with the name-calling?”

“That it doesn’t help solve anything, and that our partnership is more important than temporary issues,” she says dutifully. “Sorry Noah.”

“Noah?” Scott crosses his arms.

“Sorry I was being an ass.”

Scott sighs, but he nods to both of them, the other skaters starting to get back on the ice. “We’re going to talk about this later, okay? We need to talk about what has gotten into you two.”

They skate off, and Scott watches as they both start to reach out towards the other, and immediately pull back. “Marina,” he says to himself, “Suzanne, Igor, wherever you are out there, good lord am I sorry.”

*****

"So let me get this straight," Natalia says slowly, and there's a glint in her eyes that could be amusement or irritation. "A couple weeks ago, you were insisting to me that you couldn't possibly take a few hours off before Fashion Week to relax, and now you're telling me that you're going to be gone for three days?"

 

"It's not me," Tessa insists, twisting her ring on her middle finger anxiously. "I need to take the girls to see Scott. It’s important.”

 

"Important," Natalia repeats. Natalia is looking at her like she's sprouted a tail and wings, and to be fair, Tessa sort of feels like she has. "Tessa, what's going on? Weren't you supposed to be going out with Theo again tonight?"

 

"I called him to reschedule. He's fine with it."

 

Natalia stands up at her desk directly across from Tessa's, setting her hands down on the designs and order forms in front of her, and leans across to stare at Tessa. "And you're going to see another man."

 

"Trisha and Allie's dad."

 

 

"Who is the ex-love of your life."

 

Tessa hesitates. "Yes."

 

"And who you last saw forty-eight hours ago."

 

"Yes." 

 

"And you're telling me this isn't you running after him to declare your unending, life-altering love for him."

 

" _No,_ Tallie."

 

"Are you sure? Because I've seen his ass."

 

" _Tallie,"_ Tessa says, and her cheeks color when she realizes how her voice is squeaking.

 

" _Tessa_ ," she echoes. "This is not like you."

 

"All the designs are done, the order is in place, I've triple checked the sizes with all of the confirmed models, our space is reserved, and all the outfits won't be here until Tuesday anyway. I'll be back by the weekend."

 

"I know that," Natalia nods, "but that's never stopped you before." Tessa shoots her a pleading look, and she finally holds her hands up in mock surrender. “Look, I’m not telling you not to go as your partner, Lord knows you’ve probably over-planned and you’ve got the vacation time. As your friend, I’m a little confused.”

 

Tessa’s eyes drop to her desk. “I’m going to tell them that he’s their father.”

 

Natalia lets out a huge sigh, walking around the desks and wrapping her arms around Tessa’s shoulders. “I wish I knew what the hell was going on with you, but at this point I don’t think you have any idea either.”

 

Tessa resists for a moment, and then returns the hug. “Honestly? I feel more right than I have in a long time.”

 

****

Tessa pulls the girls out of school at lunchtime shortly after leaving the office. An hour and a half later, Tessa and the twins are on a train to Boston. Tessa has packed lunch for all of them in a backpack, and they all wolf down sandwiches and grapes, Tessa even handing each of them a few chips that she’d gotten from a vending machine in the station. They settle in to a relatively empty car, only a middle-aged man in a suit and an older couple taking up other seats, and Tessa picks seats facing each other and puts the girls on the opposite side.

“Isn’t this exciting, girls? It’s your first train ride!”

“Where are we going, Mama?” Allie asks. Their eyes are both glued to the moving earth outside the window. “We never get to leave school early unless Scott gets us!”

“We’re going to see someone special,” Tessa answers. “Someone who loves you very much.”

“But what if Scott comes home and we’re not there?” Trisha says. “He’ll be worried about us!”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

Allie suddenly looks terrified. “He’s never coming back?”

“Of course he’s coming back, sweetie,” Tessa says reassuringly, reaching over and kissing her cheek. “But he won’t be back before we come back. So we’re going to see someone very special. Do you have any guesses who it is?”

“Grandma?” Tessa shakes her head. “Aunt Jordan?” She shakes her head again. “Santa?”

Tessa laughs. “It’s someone you haven’t met before, girls.”

They both think for a minute. “I don’t know Mommy,” Trisha says. “Can we eat more chips?”

Tessa frowns. “What did we talk about last night?”

“ _Llama Llama Red Pajamas,”_ Trisha says, proud she remembers.

“After that. Remember we talked about people who love you?” They nod. “And who did you say that you haven’t met?”

“Our daddy,” Allie says, her voice wobbly.

“So I thought maybe today is the day that you two should meet your daddy.” Allie and Trisha are quiet for a moment, staring at their shoes.

Then, promptly, both of them start to sob.

It happens so suddenly that Tessa isn’t sure which one of them to go after first, or where to even start to calm them down; she moves to the other side, sitting in between their seats and pulling each of them to her side. The businessman has headphones in, but the elderly couple are giving her strange looks, and she’s mortified, a pang in her chest. She rubs her hands up and down each of their sides, attempting to be comforting. “Trisha, Allie, what on earth is the matter?”

“We don’t want to meet our daddy,” Trisha wails, sniffling loudly every other word. “We don’t need a daddy.”

“Why don’t you want a daddy?” Tessa says, not sure if she should be hurt on Scott’s behalf, or touched.

“Because,” Allie sniffs, “We want” – sniff-“We want Scott to be our daddy.”

“You do?” Tessa says, suddenly feeling lighter than air. “Why is that?”

“Because he plays with us.” Trisha says, crossing her arms.

“And reads us books at night.”

“And makes yummy food.”

“And skips with us when we go to Grandma’s.”

“And he makes you come home.” Allie adds.

Tessa’s mouth drops open. “What do you mean, he makes me come home?”

Trisha shrugs. “Scott makes you come home.”

“Have I been coming back from work earlier?” The girls nod. Tessa purses her lips. “Maybe you’re right, girls.”

“He makes you more fun, too, Mama,” Allie adds.

“I am always fun,” Tessa says, making a face at her, and she giggles.

“Fun to play games with,” Trisha says.

“And do puzzles!”

“Is fun really the word you wanted to choose then, girls?” They both look thoughtful, but it’s Trisha who comes up with the answer.

“Happy,” she says, her tears fading. “Scott makes you more happy.”

Tessa closes her eyes, not sure if she’s grateful for the perceptiveness of her girls or not. “Well, girls,” she says after a moment, her arms still around them. “I don’t know if it’s good news for me, but I know some good news that I think you’re going to like.”

 

*******

It’s the end of the second day of camp, but Cam and Noah are nowhere near ready to leave the ice.

“You two. You’re not going anywhere.” Scott says, gesturing at them as they’re heading towards the boards. Their lunch break talk had only gotten them to stop shouting at each other on the ice, but they’re still not skating anywhere near as well as they normally do. They reluctantly move toward the bench nearest them, which happens to be the penalty box. “What is wrong with you two?”

“I don’t know,” Cam says, scooting over so she’s not touching Noah. “He’s been mad at me ever since the banquet.”

“I have not,” Noah answers firmly. “You left to go on your little Florida adventure and you came back with a boyfriend who’s way too old for you.”

“He’s _your age_ ,” Cam snaps back. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“You’ve been flirting with all these boys and getting distracted for like a year now, and if we’re not focused we’re not going to be able to move to senior level next year.”

“Noah, I have not, and even if I had, it’s none of your business.”

“It is!” He insists. “Your dad made me promise to look out for you.”

“When I was twelve, Noah,” Cam says, rolling her eyes, “And name one boy I’ve been flirting with.”

“Scott!”

“What?” Scott answers, taken aback.

“ _What?_ ” Cam echoes.

“He’s way too old for you,” Noah says.

“Noah, I don’t think Cam is…” Scott starts.

Cam is furious, and she jumps up, turning around to poke Noah in the chest. “I am absolutely not flirting with Scott, Noah, he is our coach! And he is trying to do his best to help us win.”

Noah is fumbling for words, and his dark complexion can’t hide the blush on his face. “You’re always hugging him, and asking him for help with the lifts, and suggesting that he show me how to do it. And he’s better than me at everything, and he’s got five Olympic medals, and he’s good-looking, too, and…” he trails off.

Scott wants to crawl into a corner and die. “Noah,” Cam starts, her voice much softer, “Are you jealous of Scott?” Noah buries his head in his hands, and Scott knows by the look in Cam’s eyes that she’s already forgiven him. “Noah,” she says soothingly, rubbing his back, “Scott is like, practically forty.”

“Ouch,” Scott mutters, but he’s already feeling relieved.

“Plus, he’s been ice dancing since he was practically in the womb, if he wasn’t better than us, I’d be a little worried about our coaching choices. But Noah,” she says, squeezing his shoulder, “I wouldn’t want to skate with Scott anyway. You’re my partner, Noah. Nobody else here knows what braids I had in fourth grade, or what my favorite flavor of chapstick was when I was twelve.” Scott raises his eyebrows at her suggestiveness, but he doesn’t say anything. “You’re my best friend, Noah. I would never want to skate with anyone but you.”

“Swear?” Noah says, his face emerging from his hands.

“Swear,” Cam says. He reaches over and pulls her into a hug.

“What’s going on here?” Patch says quietly, appearing behind Scott on the ice.

“Nobody has a crush on me, thank God,” Scott replies, and when Patch looks at him, questioningly, he just shakes his head. “You don’t even want to know, buddy.”

“Well I think they’re about to close the rink for the day, so I’d say we better start heading out.” Patch says, and the four of them skate towards the exit.

It only takes a few minutes for them to change, and in that time they all manage to come up with four things that they would like to eat for dinner, though they know Marie-France has healthy, B2ten approved meals already prepared for them back at the hotel. They stick their skates into the lockers they’ve been provided for the week, and start to walk towards the parking lot of the arena.

“Barbecue,” Cam says, and Patch shakes his head. “Too American.”

“When in Rome…” Cam sings.

“Pasta, really greasy, cheesy pasta,” Noah says, and Patch shakes his head again.

“I think the correct answer here is burrito,” Scott fills in as they turn down another hall on their way back from the locker rooms. Patch nods.

“DADDY!” Two high-pitched voices shout one after another from down the hallway. Scott doesn’t need to look back to know it’s Allie and Trisha, he’d know their voices even if he couldn’t see the stunned expressions on Cam’s, Noah’s and Patch’s faces, and he turns around in just enough time to hold his arms out as they run straight into him.

“Girls,” he says, lifting them up to prop them on each side of his torso, a smile on his face as wide as an ocean, “how did you get to Boston?”

“That would be on my account,” Tessa says, walking around the corner from the bathroom with tired eyes and a hesitant smile, and it’s then that Scott turns back to Cam, Noah, and Patch.

“I didn’t know you had kids!” Cam says, a grin spreading on her face, but Scott’s eyes are trained on Patch.

“ _Maudit marde_ ,” he says faintly, and he turns around and walks out of the arena.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @fitslikeakey  
> Tumblr: fitslikeakey
> 
> If you have questions, comments, or things to throw. 
> 
> Up Next: Marie-France is maybe more than a little pissed.


	8. Sing Your Melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are certain conversations that needed to be had.

Marie-France has been shouting for the past ten minutes.

Tessa’s having a hard time making most of it out, honestly, she’s reverted to French and Tessa never did really pick it up, even with all of her trips to Paris over the past few years. The moment they’d arrived at Scott’s hotel for the week, Scott had bribed the girls with candy from the vending machine and sent them off with Cam and Noah into Cam’s and Fatima’s room. He’d offered, mostly jokingly, to make a run for it and come back for the girls later, but Tessa won’t have any of it, and when they knocked on Patrice and Marie’s door, they had been greeted with one agitated face and one that was absolutely infuriated.

“Marie, if you want to be angry with her, at least make it in a language she can understand,” Patch says exasperatedly.

Marie’s pointing a finger at her, and even Scott takes a step back from where he’s been standing at her side. “You kept this secret from me, from Patrice, that much maybe I could have understood, but you keep this from Scott, too? As if he’s some sort of disposable man who provided children for you and then served his purpose, you treat him as if…” and then she’s returned to French, moving her hand gestures between Tessa and Scott.

“Tessa and Scott,” Patch starts, and he’s rubbing his temples with his fingers, his eyes closed. “I think it might be easier if we understood how this all happened.”

Scott’s been twisting his hands behind his back in an attempt not to get upset. “Well Patch, when two people love each other very much…” he cuts himself off suddenly, looking frazzled.

“I was pregnant when I left Montreal,” Tessa says softly, and it’s the first time she’s spoken since they entered the room. “I didn’t know at the time. By the time I figured it out we hadn’t talked in a month. I was angry with him.”

“And then she got sick,” Scott says, and Tessa’s not sure whether or not she’s surprised that he’s defending her. “And she stayed sick until after she had the girls, and then…”

“Five years went by?” Patch supplies.

“Yeah.” Tessa’s never felt so small.

Marie erupts again behind Patrice, and she must be wearing a hole in the cheap hotel room carpet, she’s paced back and forth so much. “Marie, will you please calm down so we can figure this out rationally?”

Tessa notices Scott tensing up at Patch’s words, and even more so at Marie’s response. “ _Ne me dis pas de me calmer, Patrice. Cette femme lui a menti, l’a abandonné et nous a laissé ramasser les pots cassés_.”

“Stop,” Scott shouts, his temper snapping. He shuts his eyes briefly, and Tessa can almost see him counting to ten in his head. He turns to Marie-France. “ _Marie, laisse la tranquille. C’est mon problème.”_ His French comes off so naturally Tessa’s mouth drops open a little. Then he looks at Patch. “Look, guys, I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate everything you did for me, for us, over the course of the last twenty years, but these are our issues to deal with. Tessa and I have been working out our issues for the past month and a half, and I did perfectly well at defending myself.”

Patch nods, and when he shoots a dark look at Marie, she nods as well. “Who are they?” Marie asks, finally starting to relax.

Scott looks at Tessa, indicating for her to speak. “Allie and Trisha. Moir. They’re five years old and they’re the best little girls in the whole world.” She doesn’t give away any more than that.

“They look just like Scott, Marie,” Patch says quietly. “But they have Tessa’s natural hair.”

Marie sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Scott may have forgiven you, but I need more time.” 

“I’m sorry, Marie.” Tessa says, reaching out and touching her arm. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Marie clears her throat. “We should probably find somewhere for dinner, I think it’s too late to start making food.” Her tone is flat, and Tessa’s heart sinks.

Scott nods. “I’ll rally the troops.” He pointedly takes Tessa’s hand, pulling her out of the room.

She can tell he’s still irritated as they start to walk away from the room. “Thanks for defending me,” she says. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Of course I did, Tessa. You’re the mother of my children. I’m always going to defend you.” Scott’s said the same thing a thousand times before in a thousand different ways- she’s his friend, his partner, his teammate, and once- the love of his life. This time, though, it feels different. It feels like she’s had to work for it.

They fall silent, and as they walk towards the skaters’ rooms, she gives him a sideways look. “"When did you learn how to speak French?"

Scott's still annoyed, she can tell, but he gives her a bemused glance. "I've lived in Montreal for a decade, Tess. I had to learn it eventually."

 "It's…"

 He stops, turning and raising an eyebrow at her. "Sexy?" She rolls her eyes, moving forward, but he grabs her wrist, yanking her back to him and placing his free hand on the small of her back. " _Comment tu t’appelles, ma jolie_?" He murmurs into her ear. " _Tu viens souvent ici?"_ She can't help the nerves that erupt at his words, traveling straight down the front of her body.

"Scott," she says breathily. Their eyes lock, and the random speckled green in his looks like a direct mirror of her own eyes, like she's left an imprint on him all along. Her hand brushes his chest. "Do you use that line often?"

 "First time in six years." His voice is rich and husky. Her jacket is completely covering her back, but even through two layers she can still feel his fingers drifting all over her.

 She leans in, her head resting gently on his shoulder. "I just think maybe we shouldn’t…"

 "Mommy! Daddy!" The girls tumble out of Cam’s hotel room, hurtling towards their parents. "Miss Marie says it's time to go get dinner!" It’s Allie that ends up in Scott’s arms, while Trisha wraps herself around Tessa’s legs, and so Allie is the one who gets tossed up in the air.

 “Daddy, stop,” she giggles, wrapping her small arms around his bicep.

 “So I’m your Daddy now, huh?” Scott says, and he looks back at a wide-eyed Tessa.

 “I should have checked with you first, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think…”

Scott pointedly ignores her. “Am I your daddy, Allie?” His fingers tickle her stomach.

“Yes you are!” Her voice is so high-pitched and her face so delighted that Scott has to fight the threat of tears in the corners of his eyes. He reaches out and kisses her softly on the cheek.

 “Hey you’re my daddy too!”

“Oh, is that how that works?” Scott teases, and suddenly Allie’s the one on Tessa’s leg and Trisha’s a lot happier to be in the air. “I guess maybe I am your daddy too!” He catches her, and all of a sudden Trisha is upside down, Scott holding her up by her ankles, and Trisha is flat-out ecstatic.

Scott’s beaming as they walk out of the hotel a few minutes later. “So you’re not mad?” Tessa asks, nervous.

“They’re my kids, Tess. Why would I be mad?” And then he chases Allie down the sidewalk, and Tessa has to bite her lip hard to keep herself from thinking about this fantasy lasting forever. 

 

* * *

 

 

Tessa manages to keep the girls distracted in the city on Wednesday and Thursday, even though every morning they beg Scott to take them to the rink with him. On Friday, the camp ends at noon, and though Matt and Fatima have an early flight back to their hometown for the weekend, Cam and Noah want some extra practice, so Scott charms a few of the rink staff into letting them stay a few hours.

Tessa and the girls arrive just as the skaters are starting a short group performance for the coaches, and Allie and Trisha watch in slack-jawed amazement at the pairs doing spins and lifts around the ice. When the ice clears shortly after, Allie and Trisha are all too excited to put their new skates on, and Tessa has to spend an extra few minutes getting them to calm down enough to get the boots on their feet.

“We’re ready!” Allie says, gliding slowly onto the ice, and as she says it Trisha is face-planting onto the ice.

“I see that,” Scott smiles, skating over and lifting Trisha up. “Are you ready to watch the pros in action?” He points to Cam and Noah.  “Stay with your mom, okay? I have to boss these two around.”

He skates over to Cam and Noah, and Tessa has to grip their hands tightly so that they won’t take off after him and end up in the middle of a lift. “Short dance,” Scott calls out.

Cam and Noah are grinning at one another in their opening positions, their tension from earlier in the week seemingly gone. Scott’s playing their music in a portable speaker, so they can hardly hear it, but the girls are amazed anyway, letting out audible gasps when Noah’s holding Cam by one arm around his neck. Tessa’s fighting the mental urge to critique- it’s a brand new program, and anyway, they’re still juniors, even if they’re getting close to senior level, but when she sees the frustration in Cam’s eyes after she fights to get in position for a particular lift, she starts writing notes into her phone.

“So what did you think, girls?” Scott says as they finish, skating over to where they’re waiting at the boards. He’s looking at the twins, but his eyes flash up to hers and so she knows he noticed her note-taking. “Did you like it?”

Their head bob up and down excitedly. “That was so cool! You’re like a princess!”

Cam’s blushing a little. “Kind of,” she says, leaning over a bit so she’s on their level. “Does that make Noah my Prince Charming?”

“Yeah!” Allie answers, and Noah’s already going full teenage boy, skating away from them and pulling his hoodie over his head, embarrassed. Scott snorts at him, turning and winking at Cam.

“Are you the best skaters ever?” Trisha asks, and the question is so innocent that Cam, Tessa, and Scott all have to laugh.

“No,” Cam says, her blush getting worse. “But you know who is?”

“Who?”

She’s still leaning over, and she takes a finger at their eye level and points to Tessa and Scott. “Your mom and dad, that’s who. They’re the best ice dancers in the whole world.”

Their shouts are almost instantaneous. “Pleaaaaaseee will you skate Mommy and Daddy? Please? Please?”

There’s a storm brewing in Scott’s eyes when she looks up at him, his teeth pulling a lip into his mouth. She watches him as his mind races, watches as his fingers twitch, knows that his heart is pulling him in two different directions, but then his shoulders slump a little and she knows he’s not ready. He’s already skating backwards a little as she says gently “Not today, honey. We’re here for Cam and Noah.”

She nods a little to Cam. “I noticed you getting a little frustrated on one of the lifts. Any chance you’d want a female ice dancer’s opinion on that?”

An hour later, Cam and Noah are running their program again, and Cam looks much happier about the outcome. Noah’s switched one of his holds to aid in her transition, and when they nail their middle lift, they’re both shouting in excitement. 

“That was perfect!” Cam yells as they finish the program. She races over to Tessa, and the two hug excitedly.

“That was better,” Noah acknowledges, and Cam pokes him in the side.

“That was awesome, and I couldn’t have done without you, you dork.” When she holds onto his arm, Tessa could swear she sees a hint of a flush spread across his cheeks.

Tessa looks back over her shoulder, and immediately knows Scott’s been distracted, completely wrapped up in chasing the girls around the rink, and probably hasn’t paid a bit of attention. “You’ve got the best juniors coach in the world,” she says, and they both nod in agreement. “But sometimes, I think maybe you just need a female ice dancer’s advice. Maybe you can borrow Marie from time to time?”

“Or you could come up and visit, Tessa, and bring Trisha and Allie, that would be so great!”

Her words hit like a rock against her heart for some reason, and she turns back, watching Scott skate around with the girls in midair under his arms. “Maybe,” she says, hopeful.

 

* * *

 

 

Patch looks nervous when they meet up back at the hotel that night. “Have you guys gotten any weird messages lately?”

“No,” Scott answers mildly, eyes focused on the girls skipping ahead with Cam, who has promised to paint their toenails. “Should there have been?”

“Apparently there were CBC cameras at the camp today,” he mutters under his breath. “All the way through the performance at the end.”

Scott and Tessa both stop in their tracks, looking up at him in horror. “As in, until after I got there?”

“Until after you got there, Tessa.”

“So they probably got video of…”

“I would bet money on it, Tess,” Scott replies bitterly. He runs his hands through his hair, and calls out to Cam. “Are you okay hanging out with the girls for a while?”

“Of course!” Cam says, and pulls them into her room, dragging a noticeably-uncomplaining Noah behind her.

Patch follows Tessa and Scott into Scott’s room. “This is bad, Tess, this is really bad.” Scott’s hands are already in his hair, and Tessa starts instinctively rubbing his back, ignoring Patch’s look of disapproval.

“I know,” Tessa says, trying to be soothing but sounding stressed out herself. “I’ve worked so hard to keep them out of the public eye. It doesn’t matter, they won’t know for sure that they’re your daughters, and we don’t have to talk to anyone about…”

“No, you don’t get it.” Scott sits down on his messy hotel bed, propping his elbows on his knees. “CBC won’t know for sure, Canada won’t know for sure, but my family sure as hell will.”

“You didn’t tell them,” Tessa realizes, and she sits down next to him, flabbergasted. “I assumed you told them the night  you found out, you didn’t…”

“Do you think if I had told them, there’s even a remote chance that they wouldn’t have all showed up in New York by now?”

Tessa pauses. “But why wouldn’t you call them?”

Patch chooses that moment to interrupt. “How long has it been, Scotty?” He asks quietly.

Tessa looks at Scott’s miserable expression, and immediately her hands drop from Scott’s back and she has to stop herself from jumping up in shock. “You haven’t been talking to your family?”

Scott glares at Patch, then sighs. “After…after my mom died, I stopped going home as often. Past couple years, I haven’t gone at all. I didn’t even tell them I was in New York.”

“But why?” She asks desperately. “You’re the closest-knit family I’ve ever seen.”

Scott looks at her incredulously. “Because I lost my mom. Because I was thirty-three and my brothers had kids that were becoming teenagers and I was still single. Because every time they looked at me I could tell that they were just wondering why you weren’t with me and that made it hard to breathe.”

Tessa falls silent. He’s not yelling, doesn’t even seem angry, and yet the words cut like a knife.

Patch chooses that moment to clear his throat awkwardly. “Scott, you need to call them. As unpleasant as that phone call will be, if they find out when this all gets out…”

“I know.” He looks up at Tessa. “I think I need to do this on my own, Tess.”

“Okay,” she whispers. As Patch excuses himself from the room, Tessa stands up. “Who are you going to call?”

“Danny. It’s not been…quite as long with him.”

“Okay, she says again, and as she walks to the door, the hair on the back prickles and she turns back. “Does-does he hate me? Do all the Moirs hate me?”

He gives her a soft, sad smile. “No one in my family could ever hate you, Tess.”

 

* * *

 

It takes twenty minutes of pacing, deep breathing, and trying to remember every calming technique that every therapist he’s ever been to has suggested for Scott to finally get the courage to call Danny. The three rings before Danny picks up the phone are some of the most agonizing seconds of his life, and he has to talk himself out of hanging up the phone at least twice.

“Hello?” Danny says, and his voice sounds like it could be a million miles away. Scott freezes. “Scotty, is that you?”

“It’s me,” Scott gets out. “I’m in Boston at the moment. Skate camp this week. Are you busy?”

“Oh,” Danny says, unaffected. “No, I’m on my way to pick up pizza for dinner, there’s a playoff game tonight. It’s good to hear from you, buddy. What have you been up to?”

“That’s actually what I was calling about,” Scott says nervously. “I haven’t been in Montreal for a little over a month.”

“Really? Did you finally take my advice and settle down with a nice seniorita in the Caribbean? It’s about time.”

Scott coughs awkwardly, his hand gripping the drawer handle of the bureau in the hotel room. “Actually, I’ve been in New York.”

The line goes still. “New York,” Danny repeats. “I think I might know somebody who lives in New York.”

“Yeah, I think you do.”

Danny groans. “Scott, is hooking up with Tessa again a good idea? You know I love Tessa, we all do. But you two were kind of a disaster last time, and I know it’s been hard for you lately, but…”

“Danny,” Scott says. “That’s not what’s going on.” His voice changes, and he grows a little defensive. “Why does everyone think that Tessa and I being in the same city means that we’re automatically hooking up?”

“Because we know you, little brother,” Danny says. “Do you understand that to break up, one of you had to leave Canada?”

“Yeah well…” Scott trails off. “That’s not why I’ve been in New York.”

“Then do share,” Danny says sarcastically. “Tell me more about this reason you’re in New York that has nothing to do with Tessa Virtue.”

“I didn’t say it had nothing to do with Tessa…”

“I knew it,” Danny said excitedly.

“But we’re not hooking up.”

“You’re right, what do the kids call it these days, bumping uglies? Doing the old bump and grind? Or as they say in Canada, ice-dancing to Moulin Rouge?”

“Oh god Danny,” Scott says, his face in his hands. “It’s been eight years.”

“Love you brother,” Danny teases. “If you would call more often, I wouldn’t have to concentrate the teasing into one conversation.”

“Well we aren’t doing any of those things, and that’s not why I’ve been in New York.”

“Out with it then, Scotty. I’m not getting any younger.” Scott takes another deep breath, counting in his head. “Scotty? Is this serious?”

“I just, I..” He’s stuttering.

Danny’s tone changes completely. “I didn’t realize this was serious, kid, I wouldn’t have been messing with you like this. Tessa’s not hurt or sick or something, is she?”

“No, not anymore.” Scott gets to forty-three in his counting and stops. “Tessa just had some surprises when I got to New York.” He suddenly feels like he’s the five-year-old again, running to his big brother for help. “I have two twin daughters, Danny. Tessa named one of them Alma, for mom, and one of them is Patricia, for me. Allie and Trisha Moir.”

The line is dead again. “How old are they?” Danny asks slowly.

“A little over five.” Danny doesn’t show any inclination to speak, so he continues. “I’ve been in New York, just trying to get to know them.”

Danny swears under his breath. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell you.”

“She had her reasons. Some good, some not so good.”

“So you’re a dad?”

“I’m a dad,” Scott says, nodding his head even though Danny can’t see him. “It’s been the most terrifying and best month of my life.”

Danny exhales in something like a snort. “It only gets scarier from here.” He pauses again. “Should I be mad at Tessa?”

Scott’s mind immediately flashes back to six years before, when Danny had asked the same question, and his answer is the same now as it was then. “Of course not, Danny,” he replies. “Tessa’s just trying to do what she thinks is right. Can’t fault her for that.” He’d never processed why he’d fought so hard to keep his family from being angry with her then, and he doesn’t now, either.

“Are you going to move to New York then?”

“Honestly? I have no idea,” Scott admits. “I’ve been trying to take this whole thing one day at a time.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“So um, I don’t know when I was planning on telling you all, I’ve just started coming around on the whole fatherhood thing in the past few days…”

“It’s okay, Scott,” Danny interrupts. “I’m just happy to hear from my brother.”

Scotty feels warm inside, and immediately he’s feeling guilty for pushing them so far away. “Thanks, buddy. But um, Tessa brought the girls to Boston to see me at the skating camp, and we think that someone might have filmed them. It might be all over the news tomorrow. Tessa’s kind of famous now.”

“As are you,” Danny says. “Okay. So I need to share with the family?”

“Please. And if anyone outside the family asks, don’t tell them that Tessa lied. Just tell them….tell them we’ve been really private about it.”

“Still protecting her.” Danny sounds a little proud. “Good to have you back, Scotty.”

Scott can’t fight the smile creeping up on his face. “Good to talk to ya, big brother.”

 

* * *

 

 

Scott, Tessa and the girls board a train heading south towards New York early on Saturday afternoon. Marie, Patch, Cam, and Noah see them off at the station, and even Marie manages a smile at the girls when they reach up to hug her. Tessa is more prepared for the journey back than she was for their trip to Boston, and the four of them set to work on a board game equipped to handle train movement.

It seems like a much shorter trip to Scott than the one he’d embarked on the Sunday before, and certainly seemed shorter to Tessa, who had been worried about telling the girls the truth on Tuesday. They’re having so much fun teaching the girls how to play board games that both of them are neglecting their phones. Scott’s is on ten percent anyway, but Tessa hasn’t gone that long without touching hers in months.

They arrive at Pennsylvania Station in New York a little after seven, the sun starting to set over the highest New York buildings and the late spring breeze mostly still. Scott’s carrying all of their luggage, which is mostly just his duffle bag and a giant Louis Vuitton suitcase that Tessa had put all of the girls’ stuff in with hers. Tessa refers to him as a pack mule, which the girls find absolutely hysterical, and then for about five minutes they’re not making any progress on the walk home because Allie and Trisha are trying to climb on top of their dad.

He’s just managed to wrestle them onto a bench along the sidewalk when Tessa hears a voice calling out for her. “Tessa!”

She turns around, still grinning, and there’s a tall, tanned man walking towards her. “Theo,” she says, surprised. Scott’s got the two girls pinned into the bench, but he lets go as soon as he sees Theo approaching.

“You got back yesterday, right?”

Tessa looks at the suitcase, now sliding off the bench, and the duffle, one strap wrapped around Allie’s small waist and laying sideways on the ground, and chuckles. “Right.”

Theo sticks out a hand to Scott, whose back has noticeably straightened at the way Theo has a hand resting on Tessa’s shoulder. “Hey, man. I’m Theo. You’re Scott Moir, right?”

“The one and only,” Scott says seriously. “Just kidding, but yeah, I am.”

“I was telling Tessa a few weeks ago, it feel like every time we play in the ACC you’re there getting another jersey. They must really love you.”

“Tess, too,” Scott adds nonchalantly. He starts picking up the luggage, looking at Tessa, and she can tell he’s itching to find a way out of this conversation.

“Scott, would you mind taking the girls back to my apartment? It’s getting close to their bedtime.”

Scott raises an eyebrow at her formality, but agrees. “Sure. Girls, let’s get this pack mule on home.” He manages to hold onto the luggage and still take each of their hands, and Tessa has the softest smile on her face as they walk away.

When they’re out of eyesight, Tessa finally looks back up at Theo, who looks perplexed in the darkening evening. “So…” He starts. “Scott is their father.” It’s not posed as a question.

“That obvious?”

“If body language didn’t tell me, their eye color would.”

Tessa’s shoulders slump. “I wasn’t trying to lie to you, or anything. It’s just something I’ve tried to keep mostly private.”

“I get it,” Theo says, and his voice is honest. “But. You and Scott?”

“Me and Scott,” she acknowledges. “But it was a long time ago.”

Theo frowns, touching her cheek lightly. “Your smile disagrees with you.”

“Oh.” She touches her face, a smile still evident that she didn’t even know was there. “I guess I didn’t realize.”

“I told you, on our first date, I told you that I thought you seemed so sad.” Theo says, a note of sadness to his own voice. “I don’t see that today.”

“Just a good week, I guess,” Tessa’s trying to deflect, and she knows that Theo isn’t buying any of it.

“I guess,” he repeats. “Because of Scott?”

“Not just Scott,” she insists, but it’s probably mostly true.

“Tessa,” he says, placing a hand on each shoulder, “You deserve to be happy. You know that right?”

“Yes.” Her voice is faint.

“You were happy just being near him, weren’t you?”

She looks down at her feet, but her answer is honest. “I’m always happier when I’m near him.”

He squeezes her shoulders. “You deserve that, Tess. Go after it.” There’s a finality to his voice that she can’t find a reason to be upset about.

She looks back up at him, and grabs his wrists. “You deserve to be happy too, Theo.”

He smiles halfway. “Don’t worry about me. I think I was better off admiring from afar.” He releases her, and starts walking away backwards. “Besides,” he says, “it’s not such a bad thing to be caught in the beam of sunlight that radiates around Tessa Virtue.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tessa’s feeling something like relief when she puts the key into the lock at her apartment fifteen minutes later. It’s past eight now, and when she sees that the girls’ bedroom light is turned off and the door is closed, she immediately feels guilty.

Scott’s on the couch, a baseball game playing softly on the TV. “Thanks for putting them to bed.”

He looks back at her. “Of course. They kept mentioning something about wanting to watch _Pride and Prejudice_ , did you have something to do with that?” He points a finger at her accusingly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says innocently, and he shakes his head at her. So,” she says awkwardly, changing the subject. “That was Theo, out on the street. We’ve gone on a few dates.”

“I gathered,” he says, and she’s not quite sure whether or not he’s upset by the sudden shortness of his tone. “I don’t know how you do it, Tess.”

“Do what?”

Scott jumps out of his seat, startling her, but as he grabs her waist, he’s laughing. “Theo Domingue, Tess? Did you not think I would know who that is?”

“There are lots of NHL players, you can’t possibly know them all.”

“Yes,” He says and he’s a little riled up but he’s still smiling. “But there’s only one Norris Trophy holder, and you bagged him.” He twists her hips a little and it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Norris Trophy?”

“Basically, he’s the best defensive player in the league, and apparently his girlfriend had no idea.”

“I’m not his girlfriend.”

“Whatever, the girl he’s dating, you know what I mean.” Scott’s smile has faded, but he’s still holding onto her.

“We’re not dating anymore.”

“Oh?” He says, squeezing her hips. “Why not?”

“Because I didn’t know he was one of the best players in the league, clearly.” Her breath is short and his face is just a few inches away from hers. They stand still for a moment. “I had a fun week with you, in Boston.”

“Me too,” he breathes. “Even if you did hijack my ice dance team, don’t pretend you didn’t.”

Tessa’s batting her eyes at him and she knows it. “All I did was point out a couple things that as a male ice dancer, you might not have been aware of.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that they should definitely use the _Pride and Prejudice_ soundtrack for their free dance, obviously.”

“Oh no you don’t,” he says, and when she jerks away from him, they both end up on the couch. Scott’s fingers are dancing along her side, and she can’t help but squeak. When she starts to get a little too loud (right around the time Scott’s fingers brush the bottoms of her feet), they both grow still.

For a minute, they just stare at each other, and then Scott lets out a little gasp. “You’re looking at me, and you’re not even paying attention to me, are you?”

“I am too,” Tessa responds eagerly, and there are those eyelashes fluttering again.

“No you’re not,” Scott says, pouting. “I know that look. You’re thinking about watching _Pride and Prejudice_ , aren’t you?”

“It’s a good movie!” She protests, and he sighs, letting go of her completely. “I’ll pull it up on Netflix,” he says grumpily. They settle in, the English moors distracting them from the world around them. Scott’s arm drifts around her closer and closer, and then, when Mr. Darcy is confessing his feelings in the rain, Tessa falls asleep on Scott’s shoulder.

 

* * *

 

 

He doesn’t move her until the movie’s over.

“T,” he says affectionately, his voice tired and rough. “It’s time for bed.”

She yawns as she starts to shift away from him, and his body instantly misses her warmth. “Over already?”

“Funny how fast it goes when you’re asleep.”

“Sorry,” she says sleepily. She gets up, wrapping the couch blanket around her. “Good night Scott.” She disappears down the hallway, and he finds himself wanting to follow her.

“Night, Tess.” He says to the empty living room. He starts counting in his head again, trying to slow down his strangely quick heartbeat, and this time he makes it to seventy before he feels calm. He turns off the lamp, and he’s asleep in his own bed within fifteen minutes.

It won’t be until tomorrow morning that Tessa and Scott will remember that they’ve neglected their phones. If they had bothered to look at them in the past nine hours, they would have seen the mountains of texts that have started rolling in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: fitslikeakey  
> Twitter: @fitslikeakey
> 
> Special shoutout to @musikxaddict on Twitter for helping me with my French! 
> 
> Up Next: Fashion Week falls upon New York City, and Scott's not exactly sure how he got involved.


	9. And I'm Painted Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fashion Week brings all kinds of surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about New York Fashion Week. Please forgive anything I added that wouldn't actually happen.

_Aunt Carol is threatening to buy plane tickets again. I managed to hold her off by telling her how few Timmy’s there are in New York. Send help._

**_Tess, how are you holding up? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you and Scott got back together!_ **

_Your mother’s wedding ring is still at the house, you could get it resized pretty easily for Tessa, I should think._

**_How did I not know that Allie and Trisha were Scott’s kids?! Was there an illicit relationship? Did you make up? Text me, I want all the juicy details! XOXO_ **

_Marie’s starting to come around. I think she’s mostly upset that Tessa lied to her, not about your girls. I think maybe a good talk between the four of us would do us all some good if you think that you two might be spending some more time together._

**_Let me know if you and Scott and the girls are okay, dear, I’d be happy to take them for the afternoon if you need a break. Try to focus on Fashion Week! Love you! Mom_ **

_Holy fuckballs, Scotty, Tessa Virtue? I gave up on that ever happening twenty years ago, how did no one ever find out about this?_

Scott slams his phone down on the counter at the last text. “I am going to throw this horrible machine against the wall.”

Tessa makes a sympathetic noise. “Mine hasn’t stopped buzzing in two days, either. Lucky for me I’ve been busy.”

“What do these people think is going to happen? ‘Oh, I’ve been keeping this from you for six years, but now that national news has picked up on it via secret camera, I think I’ll tell you all the details’. There are guys from high school texting me, Tessa.”

“Which…”

“The first high school,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Did you see the article from Star? Apparently we’ve been secretly married all this time, traveling back and forth every week from Montreal to New York. Then there’s one from ET Canada saying that we haven’t been seen in public in weeks because we’ve been caught in the throes of passion. And one saying you’ve been in New York all along, and Patch and Marie have been letting you take credit for their coaching.”

“What a load of bullshit,” Scott mutters. “They will spin circles around the obvious truth; hey Canada, remember your sweethearts? Sorry, turns out that they got knocked up and then didn’t speak to each other for years. But enjoy these throwback videos that we stole from their old fans!” Tessa looks at him, unblinking. “Sorry. Too harsh?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I guess it’s kind of sweet, that they thought so highly of us that they couldn’t fathom us not speaking.”

“I guess.” There’s an awkward pause, and he looks over at her phone. “How’s it going on your end?”

“My brothers want to know if we can expect you over on Canada Day. And if they’re, and I’m quoting directly, ‘allowed to get the VirtueMoir band back together’. Apparently they missed Charlie and Danny.”

“Why did they stop talking to them in the first place? We never told them they had to do that.”

Her head drops down, ashamed. “I think my family was too understanding about me wanting to tell you about the girls at the right time. I don’t think they felt like they could talk to your brothers while knowing about something that none of you did.”

“Oh.” He looks back at his own discarded phone. “How many email interview requests have you gotten?”

“Forty-three,” she says flatly. “Several of them want to interview us separately, to try to get us to say negative things about each other, I’m sure. I’m turning them all down.”

“Good,” he answers. When Tessa hisses in frustration at her phone vibrating again, he takes her phone and shuts it off.

“Scott you can’t, if work calls…”

“You are leaving for work in five minutes, there cannot possibly be an emergency so urgent that it can’t wait the fifteen minutes between now and you getting to work,” Scott says. “You should leave it off when you get there, too.”

“Maybe,” she says doubtfully. “Hey, is there any chance you could…”

“Bring you lunch? Already planning on it.”

She beams at him. “You’re the best.”

“And don’t you forget it.” He reaches out and taps the tip of her nose. “Allie, Trisha! It’s time to go to Grandma’s!”

Allie comes trudging out of their room first, an orange sock on one foot and a purple sock on the other. “Mommy, I can’t find my socks.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Scott says as he walks to the middle of the living room, bending over and kissing her forehead. “Your mom has been a little busy at work, so I’m trying to do the laundry. I guess I’m not doing a very good job, huh?”

“You’re not doing a very good job,” Allie agrees, and Tessa snickers from beside him.

“Oh, stop,” he says. “Get to work. I’ll see you at noon, okay?”

“Okay. With…”

“The chef salad, extra egg, no dressing, I _know._ Now go make the world a more well-dressed place.” Scott shoos her out the door as he goes searching for Allie’s sandals, and Tessa can’t seem to remember what she was annoyed about five minutes before.

 

* * *

 

 

When Scott walks into _Virtue & Muldoon_ four hours and twenty-six minutes later, the office has turned into a zoo. Many of the usual models are there, but they seem to be mostly sitting on the ground, drinking sparkling water and playing on their phones. Natalia is off in the corner standing on some poor seamtress’ desk, calling out orders to the frantic women dropping fabric in sewing machines all around them.

“Oh Scott, thank God,” she calls out. “We need you.”

Scott’s eyes scan the room. “Me? Where’s Tess?”

“She had to run over to the airport, one of our investors just got in from Milan and surprised us.” Natalia’s voice tells him exactly what he needs to know about how welcome the surprise had been. “Which is why I need you. Our lovely investor of five years has decided since we’re doing _so well_ , he thinks we should add a men’s collection this year!” She fakes a rather frightening smile. “Never mind the fact that our show is in three days and every male model in the city was booked months ago. That’s why we need you.”

“So you want me to…” Scott pauses. “Oh, no.”

Natalia gives him a genuine smile this time, hopping down from her desk. “Oh yes.”

He immediately starts to protest as he drops Tessa’s lunch on her desk and walks towards her partner. “I’ve never modeled before, and besides, I’m thirty-eight, I am not what you all want representing your brand, there are much better looking guys who could…” He stops when Natalia holds up a hand.

“Please,” she says, agitated. “I have been working in fashion for over a decade and if I have to listen to one more pretty white man play down how good-looking he is, I may actually walk off the Brooklyn Bridge. Scott. I know you’ve done photoshoots, I’ve seen some of them. Plus you’re a champion ice dancer, which means you’re graceful. I don’t give a damn how old you are, our female models stare at you every time you bring Tessa lunch. We need you.” Scott makes a face. “Tessa needs you.”

Scott gives her a dirty look. “Low blow.”

“Sorry Scotty, but at this point, I’m desperate. I was about to call my husband, who has a tendency of tripping over his own feet on the way to make speeches to the UN about ending global poverty.”

He sighs overdramatically. “What do I have to wear?”

Natalia lights up. “Only one outfit. We actually really like it, it’s just a short-sleeved button down that we’re planning on premiering next spring. The pattern is really common in Indonesia, which is where our Spring 2027 fundraiser line is coming from.” She points to the changing rooms. “I have a couple different versions in dressing room that you can try out- there’s a pair of jeans in there for you as well.”

He starts to walk away, but halfway to the other side of the room, he turns around. “Where did you get my measurements?” He asks.

“I knew somebody that happened to have them memorized,” she replies.

She grins at him.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s after two o’clock when Tessa finally makes it back to the office, starving and more than a little on edge. The crowd that had gathered before she left has mostly dissipated, several of their models on their way to meetings with their other companies.

“Tallie?” She calls, finding her desk empty.

“Over by the changing rooms!” Natalia calls back. Tessa walks around the corner of the room. Scott and Tallie are sitting cross-legged on the floor, half-finished shirts strewn all around them. There’s a bag of chips and bowl of queso in between them. “There you are! How’s Lorenzo?”

“Awful, as usual.” Tessa says, grumpy. “I managed to get him to take our deal, so other than Scott and Theo, we are good until the fall.”

Scott’s eyebrows shoot up, and he looks at Natalia accusingly. “You didn’t tell me Theo was doing this too. Tallie, I thought we were becoming friends!”

“Oh please,” Natalia says. “You and Theo will be fine. Theo is completely harmless when he’s not on ice.”

“You call her Tallie now?” Tessa says with a hint of a grin.

“He can call me anything he wants to call me, Tessa,” Natalia answers seriously. “He’s helped me redefine this whole men’s line idea. Now poor Joan over there might have to sew until her fingers fall off, but Scotty here is going to look great.”

Tessa looks at Scott, who shrugs his shoulders innocently. “Last week you did my job, so I think it’s only fair that this week I get to help do yours.”

“What was his idea?”

“Casual trousers! Adding the Indonesian flair to a cozy pair of good-looking pants, and then adding a statement color button down to tone down the pattern. Plus, we could add in a whole line of men’s shoes and jump right in with that!” Natalia holds out a sketchbook, and Tessa glances over the designs. When she looks back up, Scott has a hopeful expression on his face.

“It’s perfect.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next few days pass by in a flurry of activity. Scott spends all of Tuesday afternoon, Wednesday, and Thursday at Tessa’s office, practicing his modelling when he needs to and running errands for Tessa and Natalia when he doesn’t. They take their lunches to Kate’s apartment on Wednesday and Thursday- they’ve been getting back so late, they don’t want Trisha and Allie to feel neglected, but when Tessa shows them a picture of Scott in his specially designed outfit, the girls get excited and start peppering them with questions. It’s after lunch on Thursday when Kate stops Tessa at the door on the way back to the office, concern in her eyes and the word “Scott” formed at her mouth, and Tessa ducks out before she can be pulled into a conversation that she doesn’t particularly want to have.

The texts and phone calls haven’t stopped, either. After a lot of prodding from the Moir side, Scott and Danny finally decide that Danny should come down to visit New York, pretend to check everything out, and report back to the rest of the family, while Scott agrees to take a trip to Ilderton in the next few months, preferably with the girls (though Scott spends a full hour after the phone call thinking of ways he can get his daughters out of the trip). After the decision is made, Scott turns off his phone and throws it under Tessa’s guest bed. Tessa’s not so lucky- if there’s an emergency at the office, she has to know about it, so she has to live with her phone constantly vibrating with messages and phone calls from her particularly frustrated publicist, who doesn’t seem to understand why she wouldn’t be jumping at the chance to do every interview she can.

All-in-all, it’s the most hectic week either of them can remember having in years, and when Friday finally arrives, they’re both feeling somewhat relieved. Tessa’s gone to the office before Scott and the girls even wake up for the day, and by the time he gets them ready to go over to Kate’s, he’s already exhausted.

“Why do we have to spend the night at Grandma’s,” Trisha pouts, trying to keep up with Scott as they walk down the sidewalk with backpacks in tow.

“Girls, your mom and I are not going to be any fun at all tonight,” Scott tries to reason with them. “We’ll probably be out way past story time, and we’ll be so busy we won’t have any time to play anyway. Plus, we’ll get to see you at Mommy’s show!”

“We get to go to the show?” Allie pipes in.

“Yeah, Grandma is going to bring you! You’ll get to look at all your Mom’s hard work. And maybe Grandma will take you to get her a present!”

This seems to satisfy them long enough for him to drop them off at Kate’s, and he leaves as quickly as he can, his nerves for the evening already building. The hours pass by quickly, Scott running back and forth between Tessa, setting up at the venue where the show will be, and Natalia, who is making sure everything is operating smoothly at the office eight blocks away. After his fifth run at four in the afternoon, Tessa sends him back to the apartment to take a shower, making him promise to shave the five o’clock shadow off his face.

He arrives back at the venue an hour before the show, and is quickly sorted into the back of a line with some of the real models, all waiting to be given their assigned clothing. After he takes the shirt and pants that he’d helped Natalia design, he tries to sneak out to the main room to see Trisha and Allie, but a pointed look from a severe-looking seamstress forces him back in the waiting line again.

“Fancy seeing you here,” a deep voice says from behind him. Theo’s approaching wearing an outfit very similar to his own, a half-smile fixed on his face that seems like it’s probably fake.

“Dammit,” Scott says. “I knew you were going to look better than me, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be that much better.”

Theo’s fake smile turns into a real laugh. “Well I was hoping I wouldn’t have to like you, so I guess we’re even.” He sticks out his hand, and Scott shakes it, a bit reluctantly.

“What have you been up to this week? Tessa made it seem like you’re normally around more during Fashion Week.”

The smile fades. “Just trying to keep a bit of space, I guess.” Scott nods, feeling out of place in more ways than one. “I suppose I don’t have to explain to you how impossible it is not to fall in love with Tessa Virtue, when given the chance.”

Scott sighs. “If I had to bet on it, I’d say I’m the last person on earth you have to explain that to.”

Theo seems to appreciate that. “I guess the whole having kids together thing is a bit more complicated than I think, isn’t it?”

Scott turns away from him, his expression darkening. “You saw the news.”

“I may not be Canadian, but I’m in the NHL, which I was told a decade ago makes me an honorary citizen. I see all the things exciting your fine nation.”

He looks back at him. “If that’s why you broke up with Tessa, you should know…”

“It’s not.” There’s a pause, and Theo looks like he’s having an internal debate before he opens his mouth again. “I broke things off because I saw the way she looked at you.” He stops again. “If she looked at me that way, I wouldn’t even hesitate, man. And if she was the mother of my kids?” Theo swears under his breath. “Forget it.”

“You don’t know the whole story.”

“Maybe not,” Theo agrees, and the line is starting to move forward in front of them, indicating that it’s almost showtime. “But I see how you look at her, too. So it seems to me that there’s only a couple ways your story can go.”

Scott opens his mouth to respond, but then there’s Natalia, inspecting every single model’s outfit. When she sees Theo and Scott, she clucks disapprovingly. “No, no, that’s not right at all.” She unbuttons their tops, exposing their chests. “Much better.”

“Tallie…” Scott and Theo both start, but she holds up her hand and they instantly close their mouths.

“What did I tell you about pretty white boy complaining?”

“Sorry Tallie,” they say in unison.

She chuckles. “You guys can probably sit down for a while, the show is about to start but you’re at the end.”

The show starts and Tessa is still nowhere to be found. Theo and Scott have to pointedly turn their chairs toward plain curtains, because there are models undressing and redressing everywhere and none of them seem to mind the fact that Theo and Scott can see them. An unfamiliar man dressed in all back and muttering into a headset is the one who finally pushes Scott and Theo into place nearly an hour later, making up the back of the line. When they make their way forward, they finally catch sight of Tessa, who is standing just behind the curtains double-checking everyone’s outfit. When she sees Scott, she fights back a smile.

“Looking good, boys,” she says, her voice higher-pitched than normal. “Think you might want to do this full-time?”

“No chance in hell,” Scott answers with a grin, and Theo pats his shoulder, nodding.

“Be fierce!” She says excitedly, and when she points them toward the stage, Scott thinks he might just throw up.

There’s a cool, female voice that Scott vaguely recognizes as being Natalia’s that speaks as he and Theo are walking down the runway. “Coming, Spring 2027,” she says. “ _Virtue & Muldoon_ takes on the other half.” Scott and Theo pause at the end of the runway, as instructed, and then switch sides. There’s applause, like normal, but when Scott moves over to the left, he hears a childish squeal, and he finally sees Allie and Trisha jumping up and down in the back.

As Scott and Theo manage to make it back down the runway without losing what’s left of their lunches, Natalia speaks again. “ _Virtue & Muldoon_ thank you for joining us today, please visit our website for more information about any of the items you admired. Enjoy the rest of Fashion Week!”

When they make it back behind the curtain it feels like a year has passed, but Tessa is still there, grinning hard at both of them. “Now was that so bad?”

“Yes,” they say simultaneously.

“A five-time Olympic medalist and a Stanley Cup winner and you two are telling me that that was harder?”

“I thought I was going to pass out,” Theo says. “Fashion journalists are mean.”

Scott nods. “If he dropped to the ground, I would have been right behind him.”

Five minutes later, the girls appear behind the curtain, dragging Kate behind them. “Mommy! Daddy!” Trisha is jostling a large bouquet of flowers

“What did you think of your first fashion show, girls?” Tessa says, lifting Trisha off the ground when Scott picks up Allie.

“It was very boring,” Allie says seriously. “It needed more dragons. And princesses.”

“Oh really?” Scott says, kissing her and then Trisha on the cheek. “So maybe next time when I say you’d have more fun at Grandma’s, you’ll listen to me?”

“Yes Daddy,” Trisha says. “Mommy, these are for you!”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Wasn’t Daddy such a good model?” Tessa says, poking Trisha in the side. “He’s brand new at it!”

“I was sort of wondering,” Kate says, and Scott makes a face at her. “Imagine me telling eighteen-year-old Scott that he’d end up modeling at New York Fashion Week.”

“Hey, I was provoked, prodded, and bribed, and threatened,” Scott says. Kate smiles, but there’s a little worry in there, too.

Scott and Tessa say good night to the girls, and when they head back out into the main area, they meet up with Theo again. “Cleaning time and then fun time?” Theo asks, wagging his eyebrows at both of them.

Scott shoots Tessa a questioning look. “Oh, I think we’ve earned it,” she says to Theo, and when she looks back at Scott, she winks.  

 

* * *

 

 

It’s nearly midnight by the time everything is cleaned up, packed up, and back at the office. They’ve all changed into street clothes, and Scott has put on a dark gray suit that Tessa must have bought for him when he wasn’t looking, though he doesn’t have a tie. The group has dwindled until it’s just a couple of the younger seamstresses and junior designers, all female, Natalia and her very tall husband Emmanuel, Tessa, Theo, and him.

“Where are we actually going?” He says as they leave the office, stepping out onto the dark New York street.

Natalia smiles at him. “Tessa and I get one night off together a year, and we like to enjoy it. We also like to skip Fashion Week after parties and go dancing. A few years ago, we happened to find the perfect club for us, and it’s only seven blocks away.”

“Dancing,” Scott repeats, and he looks at Tessa. They continue to walk down the sidewalk, and when they get to an intersection, he turns and stares at her, clad in a summery sundress with a floral pattern and only straps in the back, her soft pale skin exposed and obvious goosebumps on her shoulders. When she notices him looking, she shrugs.

“Okay,” he finds himself saying. “Let’s dance.”

They enter the club a little after 12:30, the dark room already loud and filled with strangers. There’s a dance floor that’s already crowded, and Scott has to place a hand on Tessa’s bare back to keep from losing her in the shuffle.

Emmanuel immediately buys all of them a round of champagne to celebrate, and it’s Natalia who proposes the toast. “To another successful show,” she starts, “To friends who drop their plans to help out,” she adds, gesturing her glass to Theo and Scott, “and to one night off from the world.”

“Cheers,” the group answers dutifully, and Scott pretends he doesn’t notice Tessa draining her champagne flute in one long gulp. He sips slowly from his. Natalia pulls her husband to the dance floor right away, and when Theo offers his hand to one of the seamstresses, the other girls move to the bar in search of other partners. Tessa and Scott are left alone, both staring at the dance floor, and Tessa starts working on her second glass of champagne.

Tessa turns to him after a few minutes, holding out a hand. “It’s just dancing, Scott,” she says, her voice low. “No ice required, therefore not our job.” The words sound so familiar to him that he thinks he must have heard them before in a past life.

“One night off from the world, huh?” He asks.

“Just one night.”

He takes her hand, and every part of him feels warmer. He guides her to the middle of the dance floor, negotiating smoothly around all the people gyrating with varying degrees of inebriation. When they find the beat of the music, they fall into a cha-cha without a moment’s hesitation.

It’s funny, how time starts to fade away when they’re dancing with each other. When her fingers tug at the back of his hair he thinks maybe the world has gone blurry, and when he dips her and her whole body is sliding down his thighs, they might as well be alone in the club. The crowd has started to space out around them, and Scott’s grateful for the extra room to move. They manage to make the music work while they go through some of their oldest step patterns, the order coming back to them as if no time has passed. His hands travel over her body of their own volition, finding the curves and indentations of Tessa that he didn’t know he remembers. Tessa seems just as lost as he feels, turning and balancing and spinning with just the barest hint of a command coming from him. When the music starts to slow, it may have been ten minutes or ten hours for all that they’ve been paying attention, and it’s all too easy to step into a waltz.

_You’re in my arms,_  
_And all the world is calm,_  
_The music playing on_  
_For only two_

Their arms and feet are perfectly positioned at the correct distance away from each other, but their eyes are fused to each other, and for everything Scott’s feeling they may as well be pressed together. They move back and forth gracefully, their dance the only real thing in the world, and Scott’s hands drop further and further on her waist.

_A life goes by_  
_Romantic dreams must die_  
_So I bid my goodbye,_  
_And never knew,_  
_So close, was waiting,_  
_Waiting here with you,_  
_And now, forever, I know_  
_All that I wanted_  
_To hold you so close._

She’s holding onto him as hard as she can, and there’s a wistfulness in her eyes that he wishes wasn’t there. “Scott,” she says once, and she pulls him closer and closer. Her hands is still drifting around his neck, and she’s rubbing her lips together as she dances. When she twists her fingers into his hair, her eyes grow glassy. “Scott,” she says again. “Scott, I need you to know…”

_We're so close to reaching_  
_That famous happy end_  
_Almost believing_  
_This one's not pretend_

He dips her down, and his mind is a mess, the intoxicating sensation of having Tessa in his arms pushing at the fears growing in his chest. She’s wearing a perfume she hadn’t had six years ago, and he’s struck with the urge to leave his mark all over her, to brand himself on her the way she’s branded herself all over him. When he pulls her back up and she slides down, lips less than a centimeter away from his, he stops, his heart dropping out from under him.

“I can’t do this, Tessa,” he wheezes. He sets her down gently, and by the time her mind clears enough to process his words, he has disappeared into the crowd.

  
_Let's go on dreaming_  
_For we know we are_  
_So close, so close_  
_And still so far_

* * *

 

 

He doesn’t reappear until nearly an hour later, just in time for the group to make their journey home. Natalia and Theo send Tessa questioning looks as they part ways near the office, but Tessa ignores them, remaining silent next to Scott. The temperature has dropped considerably since the beginning of Tessa’s show, and as Tessa and Scott begin walking to the apartment slowly, their awkward quietness seems to amplify the coolness of the night. Tessa tries not to shiver, but Scott can tell that she’s freezing, and following a short argument with himself, he takes his suit jacket off and slips it over her shoulders. She doesn’t thank him.

The apartment seems unbearably empty when they walk into it a few minutes later. It’s after three in the morning, and Scott should be exhausted, but his body is still jumpy from the club, and he follows Tessa towards the kitchen, accepting the three pieces of Lindt chocolate that she hands him before grabbing three for herself and jumping up to the barstool next to him at the counter. They unwrap the pieces calmly, eating their late-night snack in near-darkness, the nightlight in the hallway the only thing illuminating their faces.

“It’s too quiet here, without the girls,” Scott comments, finally breaking their silence. “I’ve gotten used to them always being around.”

Tessa smiles, despite herself. “They’ll be back tomorrow. We’ll get some well-earned rest.” She gently sets a hand on his wrist. “Thanks for all your help this week. I couldn’t have done the show without you.”

“Seems like you’ve been doing all right the past few years,” he says, for lack of anything better. “With the kids, or with your company?”

“Both.” She’s looking at him with wide green eyes, and even in the dim room it looks like they’re twinkling at him. His Adam’s apple goes up and down nervously. “I’ve made the whole parent and business owner thing work before. But not like this year. This year was special.”

He stares at her hand where it’s touching him, but he doesn’t move. “Tessa….at the club, that was…I mean we shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what, Scott?”  Her eyes are fixed on his, and when he looks up and sees her strong gaze, he blinks and immediately looks back down.

“We just…we shouldn’t.” he stands up, pushing the stool underneath the counter and dusting himself off.

She stands up, too, and when she steps closer to him, he doesn’t stop her. “Shouldn’t what, Scott?” She whispers, placing a hand on his waist, squeezing his hip and making him jump a little in surprise.

He steps back, but she’s right there with him, and his eyes make their way fully up and down her     body. “I don’t know,” he breathes.

“I do.” She slides her hands into his hair, and when she pulls his head down, she leans up and presses their lips together.

Immediately his hands are around her back, pulling their bodies together, and her mouth is working the same dance with his lips that their hands and legs were doing at the club. Her hands are making a mess of his mop of hair, tugging and twisting in a way that causes him to groan somewhere in the bottom in his throat. When his back hits the window, they both realize that she’s pushed him halfway across the room and immediately she breaks the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” she says. His hair is sticking up at odd ends and his lips look a particular shade of cranberry red. “I shouldn’t have done that.” She grabs a tissue box off one of the end tables, dabbing at his mouth with one hand and smoothing down his hair with the other. She backs away from him then- he’s still stuck in place, staring at her with his back against the wall. His entire demeanor is unreadable to her, but his mind and heart are racing.

“I-I’m just going to go to bed,” she manages. She leaves the room quickly, not noticing the way his eyes follow her all the way down the hallway.

 

* * *

 

 

Tessa paces around her bedroom in the dark, wondering what she _possibly_ could have been thinking, thinking she _has_ to have ruined this perfect situation that they’ve been working on, and working on a thousand ways to apologize to him again tomorrow. She starts pulling off jewelry, setting her earrings in the dish on her dresser and her heavy necklace on its stand. She blushes when she realizes that she still has his suit jacket on over her shoulders, and slides it off an onto a hanger immediately, feeling burned.

When she turns back from her closet, she finally notices him standing in the doorway.

"Tess." He says her name like it belongs to him. Like anyone who has ever said her name before has just been borrowing it, using it on loan, just waiting for the sound to fall back into the mouth of its rightful owner. She shouldn't like that, but it ignites every part of her body.  

"I'm sorry," she says again, but she's lying. 

He steps through the door and into her room, and suddenly all the air is gone. It's dark, but she doesn't need more than the outline of street light coming through the window to see the fire burning in his eyes, a flame just like the one she feels inside her chest.  When he's a foot in front of her, she reaches out hesitantly and puts a hand on his chest. "Tell me- tell me you don’t want me," she says hoarsely, eyes trained on her hand. He just looks at her, watches her hands as she starts unbuttoning his shirt, the tips of her fingers warm as they brush against his chest lightly on the way down. "Tell me," she says again, pulling the shirt open and slipping it off his shoulders. He's not wearing a t-shirt underneath. "Scott," she whispers, grabbing his hand and guiding it to the bottom of her sundress. "You have to tell me." His fingers close, bunching the thin cotton together. Their eyes lock.

"I can't," he chokes out. He takes a small step towards her, but it's enough to make her brush up against his bare chest. He leans his head over, breathing in her neck as if it’s the sweetest perfume. "You've had too much to drink, Tess." His mouth is on her ear as he speaks.

"I had two glasses of champagne, three hours ago," she answers, her hand sliding onto his shoulder. "You didn't even finish one."

"But I feel…" Her dress inches up her leg, and Scott looks a little dumbfounded by the fact that he's the one moving it.

"I know," she breathes. "Me too." Her hand is flat on the skin of his back, and she digs her nails in lightly.

"Tessa." He hisses. She does it again, and immediately he pulls her dress up and over her head, tossing it somewhere on the floor.

She leans forward, her teeth brushing the vein in his neck. "One last chance." His fingers are running along her bare waist, but when she moves her head back, he stares straight into her eyes.

“One night off from the world?” He asks. She nods slowly, her hand brushing up and down his bicep, squeezing just a little. Time is frozen. Emerald green stares into hazel brown, and in that moment they could be thirty-eight and thirty-six or eighteen and sixteen, for all the nerves they feel swelling up inside them.

When the spell is broken, it's because he reaches under her knees and flips her onto her bed.

Their lips are glued together, and his hands are everywhere and not enough places at once, on her stomach, tickling the fine hairs above the lace of her underwear, on her thighs, gently massaging back and forth, in her hair, tangling and tugging. Her arms are focused on his belt, struggling to unhook when her eyes are everywhere else and her mind on everything else, and finally, when his mouth leaves hers and bites down on her collarbone, he reaches down and yanks it off himself. He pulls his pants off himself, her fingers distracted as they carve out all the defined muscle in his chest. Her strapless bra ends up on the floor, somehow- she misses it happening while his teeth and tongue are doing a dance on her neck.

He's murmuring words she can't make out as his lips travel further down her stomach, and she can't bring herself to let go of his shoulder even as he's nudging her legs apart and kissing her thighs. When they're both bare, he stops.

"Tessa," he whispers, shifting his body over hers. "Tell you don’t want me." His hand slips right to her center, and he rotates his fingers back and forth gently. He’s doing sinful things to her body and yet, as she looks into his eyes, she can’t see anything but pure adoration- or, perhaps, her own adoration for him reflected back at her.

"I can't," she groans, all of her muscles tensing at his movements, "You know I can't."  She leans up, pressing a soft kiss onto his lips. She laces her hands through his at their sides, and he kisses her back so tenderly she wouldn’t remember her name if she tried. 

When he finally pushes inside her, they both breathe a sigh of relief.

 

* * *

 

 

Tessa awakens what feels like minutes later, the sun peeking through the skyscrapers and the curtains on the window and basking the room in early morning light. Her head’s still a fog as her mind processes the events of the night, and when she lands on the ending and the fact that she’s naked under her sheets, her heart sinks, and she has no doubt that the other side of her king-size is now empty.

As she shifts to go back to sleep, though, she finds herself unable to move, pinned in place by the warmest of embraces. Scott’s not gone at all, it seems. He’s holding onto her with everything he’s got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @fitslikeakey  
> Tumblr: fitslikeakey
> 
> Because I'm pretty sure you've got some things to say. 
> 
> Up Next: The other shoe drops.


	10. And Erase Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny Moir comes to town.

 

_He awakens slowly, the thrum of a headache keeping his eyes firmly closed to shut out the early afternoon light. He’s undressed from the waist up, and there’s a leftover smell of alcohol and body sweat lingering in the room, permeating every surface, getting into his skin. His limbs seem to protest as he starts to sit up, aching for attention, for long-neglected exercise._

_When he makes it upright, he sees a t-shirt laying on the ground and pulls it over his head without stopping to check whether or not it’s clean- it doesn’t matter anyway. He reaches for the bottle on his bedside table, grumbling when he notices that it’s empty, and it’s only then that he stands up to make his way out of the room. He doesn’t stop to grab his phone; he knows that if he looks at it, there will be a message from one of his brothers, a message from Patrice, and maybe, if he’s lucky, there will be one from a cousin as well. He doesn’t need to look at them, he knows they’ll say a variation of the same thing they said yesterday._

_Because today is just like yesterday and the day before that, and it’s just like tomorrow will be and the day after that. He’s waking up in the king-size bed that he bought with the love of his life._

_And he’s alone._

 

* * *

 

 

He hasn’t even opened his eyes when he moans “Oh god, I need Advil.”

His back is hurting like it hasn’t in weeks, the last time he’d gone to the chiropractor he’d been given a special pillow to elevate his neck, but he hasn’t used it in weeks, hadn’t thought to shove it in his suitcase when he’d hastily packed up his things and driven across the border. He’s sweating, why is his bed so warm? He needs Advil and probably a hot pad, and he needs to head to the gym right after he takes the girls to Kate, because…

His train of thought is cut off when the warm pillow along his side starts to move. His eyes fly open, and are met with a wide display of green.

“Tessa,” he croaks. He tries to back away, feeling fearful, feeling shocked, wondering how she’s made it into the guest room and why she doesn’t seem to be wearing anything and what she’s doing to keep him from backing away, but then he realizes it’s his arms desperately holding her to his body, not hers, and his entire body freezes.

“Scott,” she says, her voice groggy but her eyes fixed carefully on his.

“We….we…” he starts, hoping to find a straw to grasp onto.

“Yeah,” she answers softly, not bothering to hide the soft smile on her face. She pulls her arm away from his waist, and when she reaches up tentatively with a hand to brush away the hair falling down his forehead, she inadvertently exposes herself, and Scott has to shift away from her, feeling embarrassed.

They sit up quietly, shifting to lean against Tessa’s headboard side by side. Scott turns a little pink at the sight of their clothing strewn in various places across the floor of her bedroom, and when he glances over at Tessa, she seems to feel the same way, her own gaze fixed on her black, lacy strapless bra dangling over the edge of a white steel armed chair perched in front of the window. The sheets are stretched over their waists, but she hasn’t bothered to cover up her chest, and when he starts to look back over at her, he cringes a little further into the headboard, willing his body to calm down.

“What time is it?” He asks.

Her phone is probably dead in her purse three rooms away, but she’s got an antique alarm clock on her bedside table. “A little after ten,” she says.

“And when is Kate bringing the girls over?”

“Noon, I think.” Scott doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he doesn’t, just watches her face as it morphs from uncertainty to fear, fear to acceptance, acceptance to something a shade too close to hope. She turns to look at him slowly.

“Should we talk about…” He cuts himself off when she puts a hand on his arm, gently, intently. “Tess,” he says, his voice cracking the way it used to in Waterloo. Her fingers dance across his shoulders. “Tessa, we can’t…” He bites his lip as she grabs his hand and slides it back around her bare waist.  “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers, her fingers drifting down his chest. He shivers, unintentionally tightening his grasp on her hip. She trembles in response. Her eyes follow her hands down his chest. “You look different.”

“I’m thirty-eight, Tess. I’m not an Olympic athlete anymore,” he says, and, distracted from his anxiety, he sounds a bit put off.

She quickly amends herself. “Not bad, different, _obviously_ ,” she glances down at his hard stomach, “just different.”

“So you don’t mind that my abs have wrinkles?” He jokes, trying to loosen the tension around them.

She leans into his ear, licking it lightly from the top down to the lobe, and he can’t stop his body from reacting, angling towards her, pushing him further into her orbit. “Scooott.” She moves closer to him, a hand on his bare hip and another squeezing the arm that’s next to her. He’s staring firmly down at the plain white comforter, willing away a growing problem that the blanket is hiding. When she says “Scott” again, softly, carefully, he turns his head to face her, and before his eyes can take the millisecond they need to focus, her lips are on his.

Scott lets out a quiet whimper, and again when her hands find their way into his hair and pull. Kissing her is like getting his edges on the ice; he knows if he was away for a hundred years, he could return and remember every step, every angle, every stroke. She’s everywhere, and in everything, her scent flooding through him like a tidal wave, her limbs fitting themselves around his as if they remember exactly where they belong. She tastes like heaven, and she tastes like home, and with that thought, he breaks their mouths apart.“This is wrong, Tess,” he says, letting out a grunt even as he speaks because her hands are drifting dangerously high on his thighs and it’s making it hard enough to breathe, let alone think. He pulls himself away, panting heavily.

Tessa cocks her head to the side and looks at him, her hair tangled and messy, her lips red and cheeks rosy. She keeps her eyes focused on him for a moment; he’s not covering himself up any more than she is, but her gaze is locked on his. Scott feels it acutely, weighing him down, prickling at his heart. When she speaks, she speaks measuredly. “It’s you and me, Scott.” She reaches for him, grabbing onto his hand and lacing hers through it; somehow despite everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours it feels like the most intimate gesture possible, like their hearts are reaching down through their arms to meet in the middle. He swallows. “Scott,” she repeats, “it’s you and me. How could it ever be wrong between you and me?”

It’s the exact right thing to say, and the exact wrong thing to say, and when she finally looks away, trying to disguise a teary sniff, he can’t stop himself from reaching over and pulling her body back to his.

 

* * *

 

 

If Tessa is completely honest with herself, she expects Scott to be gone before Kate even brings the girls over early on Saturday afternoon. She’s got all kinds of adrenaline running through her body as she and Scott lay in bed, wound together, and his eyes are closed, but she knows he’s awake, thinking, deciding. They haven’t spoken since they finished twenty minutes ago, but he hasn’t made any move to leave, either, which Tessa takes as a rousing success. She’s had her head resting on his chest since then, the beat of his heart soothing her even if perhaps he doesn’t mean for it to, and she’s drawing shapes all over his chest, every line on his body the same as it has been six years ago and somehow different as well.

 She tilts her head up as the clock draws closer and closer to half past eleven, resting her chin on him instead of her cheek, studying his face. Is it possible that she hasn’t really looked at him since he got here? The time has only made every angle and mark on his face more defined. She knows he has to be grateful, at thirty-eight, he finally has stubble everywhere he once complained that it should be, and the shading highlights the jawbone that had once set the Internet on fire – or maybe it was just Buzzfeed Canada. He has the same strong nose that she’s loved for nearly her whole life, one she’d promised him at eight and eighteen and twenty-eight wasn’t too big, wasn’t too ugly, didn’t make him any less handsome. His eyes are closed, but they haven’t changed once in thirty years, all big and hazel and constantly, _constantly_ full of emotion. The only thing that’s changed is the lines at their corner, marking his maturity, his wisdom. Time has been kind to his face, if not his soul.

When she reaches up and strokes his jaw bravely, he finally opens his eyes again. “Is it time to get up?” He asks.

She frowns, looking back over at the clock. “Yeah. We should probably take a shower.” She looks at him, and immediately blushes. “Separate showers, of course.”

“Of course,” he echoes. There’s an unspoken question in the air, maybe a few, and Tessa is dying to ask each and every one of them, but Scott seems so at peace despite all of the circumstances, and she can’t bring herself to do it. “Should you go first? Do you want to blow-dry your hair?”

“Yes,” she answers, and she starts to untangle herself from him. The absence of him surrounding her everywhere hits her harder than she thinks, and before she can question why, she bends over, pressing her lips to his one last time. “I’ll see you in a bit?”

He nods, his eyes closed again, and after she slips into a silk robe she makes her way into the bathroom. When she returns, he and his clothing have disappeared from her bedroom, and when she finally sees him again, freshly showered and much more awake, greeting the girls at the door with a big hug and a huge smile, it’s like the whole twelve-hour period never happened.

The rest of Saturday and Sunday are strikingly normal, and by Monday morning, Tessa thinks she may have dreamed the entire thing, until she walks into her office a little after nine and sees Natalia staring at her. She’s brought a flaxseed muffin with her to eat for breakfast, and as she logs onto her computer to check her email, Natalia loudly and purposefully clears her throat.

“Hi Tallie,” Tessa says, a little confused. “Did you catch up on some sleep after the show?” 

“Sure,” Natalia answers, smirking. “And you?”

“Some,” Tessa answers innocently, taking a bite of muffin. “Kind of ruined it last night, though, Allie wasn’t sleeping well so I…”

“Tessa Virtue,” Natalia accuses. She stands up, looking around the nearly empty office. Nearly everyone is off on the first day back after the show, it’s just Jean off in the corner, and she’s mostly deaf anyway, and for that matter, Tessa is pretty sure Natalia doesn’t much care whether Jean hears. “Are you trying to avoid telling me about what happened Friday night?”

Tessa slumps back in her red antique desk chair. “Oh.”  

“You are not trying to convince me that after the absolute cabaret I saw on Friday night, you and Scott continued living your parallel, awkwardly symbiotic lives like nothing changed. I _know_ you are not trying to convince me that.”

“Okay, maybe not like nothing changed…”

Natalia jumps out of her own chair. “I knew it. I said it to Emmanuel before we even went to bed that night.”

Tessa blushes, her stomach suddenly twisting uncontrollably. “It’s not-it’s not what you think?”

“You mean you two didn’t go back to your apartment and horizontally work through all of the steps to Carmen?”

Tessa yelps, scandalized. “How do you know about that?!”

“Oh honey,” Natalia grins wickedly. “Guess what Emmanuel and I did with our Saturday off.”

“You didn’t.”

“We did.” Natalia walks over and sits on the side of Tessa’s desk. “Twenty years worth of competitions makes for a lot of blanks to fill in. So why don’t you start?”

“Um,” Tessa’s twisting her hair nervously in a way she hasn’t in years. “Where do you want to start?”

“I think Friday night would be a good place to start.” Natalia drums her nails on Tessa’s desk expectantly, their work completely forgotten. One look towards Jean and Tessa knows she’s not getting out of telling _her_ about the weekend, either.

“Well, would you rather hear about Friday night or Saturday morning?”

“ _TESSA!_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

The days following the fashion show fly by for Scott. Patch had cooled off a bit after Boston, but he’s started calling again, this time focusing less on where he is and who he’s with and more on the fact that he’s been gone for a month and a half. His teams are treading water, he knows, and it’s not fair to them that he’s spent all this time away, not when Cam and Noah are on the precipice of being seniors, not when Fatima and Matt are just starting to get the hang of their own signature lift. He means to bring the subject up with Tessa- what happens when he has to go home, what happens when he wants to see the girls, what happens when the girls have to go do a different country to see their father- but every time he comes close, the girls bound up to him or need his help with something or Tessa looks at him like she needs him and he can’t for the life of him remember what is pressing him to go.

It’s a week after the fashion show when Danny Moir finally makes it to town. Scott picks him up at JFK at three in the afternoon, dressed in a red Canada sweatshirt that Trisha had stained on the arm with orange juice that morning, and his black jeans, looking much more worn than they had when he’d arrived and with pockets that contained at least three different broken pieces of crayon. He hasn’t gotten much sleep- Allie woke up with a fever on Tuesday, and so he and Tessa have been tag-teaming the past couple days to keep the girls separated so Trish won’t get sick as well, which means of course Scott is starting to feel ill. Danny strolls up to him with one carry-on suitcase, takes one look at him up and down, and laughs.

“Dad Scott. I can’t believe I’m finally seeing the day.” He grabs Scott, pulling him into a hug so tight it nearly cuts off Scott’s air supply. “I’ve missed you, young brother.”

“I’ve missed you too, old brother,” Scott says. They hug again, and Scott knows that the happiness Danny is radiating is not just about the fact that Scott’s found out he has children.

“What are we going to do this weekend?” Danny asks nearly five minutes later as they walk out of the airport.

“Well,” Scott starts, his heart feeling warm at his brother’s presence, “it’s Friday night, and my girls are Moirs. So we’re going skating. Want to come?”

“You specifically didn’t mention this because you wanted me to have to wear crappy rental shoes,” Danny accuses.  Scott shrugs, and Danny punches him good-naturedly.

Allie and Trisha take to Danny even more quickly than they did to Scott, because Danny is smart enough to introduce himself with chocolate. At the rink that night, Trisha is pulling Danny along while Allie rides on Scott’s back, making him spin around at her discretion, but Danny is bemused by the whole thing, adopting his newly discovered nieces with no hesitation at all. It’s him who manages to convince Allie to try a crossover, and when she manages it perfectly on her third try, he scoops her up and spins her around, and Scott and Tessa catch her beaming as Danny sets her back down on the ice. When Trisha does three perfect ones in a row, Danny insists that he has to take them out for ice cream, and Scott knows that he’s won the girls over forever.

The weekend is off to such a good start that Scott’s let his guard down by the time Saturday morning rolls around, and Danny joins him to take the girls to the park while insisting that Tessa do something for herself. They teach the girls a couple games that they’d played as kids and that Danny has long since passed on to his own children, and an hour into their time there, the girls are still full of energy, but forty-five year old Danny and thirty-eight year old Scott are most certainly not, and as the girls take off towards the playground, they trudge back to a bench nearby, feeling ancient.

“So, Scotty,” Danny starts, and Scott immediately groans. “Scotty, you know we have to have a talk.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to hate it any less,” Scott complains, grabbing a water bottle out of the backpack that Tessa had packed and sent to the park with them and passing one to Danny. He stares down at his arms resting on his dirt-covered legs.

“Scotty, this situation is insane. You’re basically living with your ex-girlfriend, ex-partner, and baby mama all at once, who you’ve been in love with your whole life. I mean, it would be insane for anyone, not just you and Tess, but for you two walking on a tightrope across the Grand Canyon might be more reasonable. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I wanted to get to know my daughters, Danny.” He looks over at his brother with an incredulous expression. “I was thinking how could I have not known that I was missing this, that a few hours away my entire world was growing up and I wasn’t there to see it? I was thinking that for the first time in years I didn’t feel like my days were just going through the motions again.”

Danny is silent, searching his eyes. “I know, buddy.” He sighs. “It’s good to see you this happy. And I don’t know, maybe if you can avoid going back to Ilderton for a while so the family can calm down, maybe this is the best scenario for you all.” He freezes. “You’re not spending that much time with Tessa, are you?”

Scott scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I mean, she’s working full-time so not really...”

His eyebrows jump. “You mean aside from work, you’re spending all your time with Tessa.”

“And the girls,” Scott says defensively.

“And Tess,” Danny repeats. “Scotty, this is not good.”

“It’s fine,” Scott protests. “We’re making it work. The girls are happy, which is what is most important.”

“And you’ve convinced yourself that this is enough.” Danny says flatly.

“It is enough,” he answers firmly.

Danny stares at him. “I just don’t know if I believe you are capable of only having some of her, Scott.” He takes his younger brother’s hand and squeezes it, looking over toward Allie and Trisha racing down the slides. “You’ll just end up in bed together again, like when you were young.” Scott head drops down, and his cheeks are hot. “Oh _shit_ , Scotty, tell me you didn’t.” Scott tilts his head slightly back, looking guilty. “Scott, do you know what kind of deep shit you’re in? Are you not aware of what the last six years have been like for you? I sure am. Dad sure is, and Charlie and Aunt Carol and everyone else who gives a damn about you. We’re all worried, Scott. We don’t want to see you like that again.”  

Scott groans again, this time so loudly that his daughters turn to give him a curious look from where they are perched on a single side of a seesaw, and when he looks at Danny one more time, his tone changes. “You know what, Danny? Stop. I’m fine. Tessa is fine. Our relationship is fine, we are co-parenting the two most beautiful girls in the entire world together, and for the first time in six years, I am actually excited to get out of bed in the morning. So quite frankly, fuck off.”

Danny has an unreadable expression on his face as he listens, and after a few moments of silence, he nods. “Okay Scotty,” he says quietly. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

Danny and Scott behave strangely toward each other for the entire afternoon and evening following their trip to the park, so much so that Tessa has to lean over to Scott and whisper “What’s going on with Danny? Are you two okay?” as they’re making spaghetti for dinner together. Her mouth accidentally brushes Scott’s ear as she speaks, and he jumps away from her. She ignores the twinge in her chest.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, and he leaves the kitchen to play with the girls.

By Sunday morning, Tessa has had enough. “Can we talk?” She asks Danny. Scott’s run out to pick up flour to make the girls pancakes, as demanded by Trisha, because not even Danny’s mocking of Scott’s pushover parenting skills can stop him from making her happy.  

“I was actually about to ask you the same thing,” Danny replies. The girls are in their room, working on a puzzle (which really means that Allie is working on a puzzle and Trisha is supervising/ bossing her around), so Danny and Tessa sit on the couch. “I’m worried about Scotty. I don’t think…I mean I don’t think he’s in the right headspace about all of this.”

“All what?” Tessa asks lightly. “He’s seemed fine to me.” She can hear the lie in her voice, but she’s not sure where it came from, why it came.

“Big Hands,” Danny says affectionately, accusingly, squeezing her knee gently. “I know you better than that.”

Tessa’s heart is pounding. “I don’t get…I mean we’re not…” She stutters.

“I believe that Scott has convinced himself that this is all working fine, but I don’t believe for a minute that you really think that all of this is okay.” Danny’s eyes soften. “I saw you at the rink on Friday, Tessa. He would barely even look at you, let alone touch you, skate with you. How am I supposed to believe that you two are okay when you can’t even do the fundamental thing that made you who you are?” Danny pauses. “And that’s as Tessa and Scott, as well as Virtue and Moir.”

“Why won’t he skate with me?” She whimpers, and she hates the quiet desperation in her voice, hates the way every part of her seems to sag at the question, as if she’s admitting some great defeat. “The rink-the rink is home, but every time we go there, I feel like I’m being pulled apart inside. Being at the rink with Scott, and not skating with him?” Her voice cuts off halfway through _him_. “It feels like I’m watching my childhood home burn down and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Why did you sleep with him, Tess?” Danny counters, and Tessa doesn’t know that she flushes the same way Scott had the day before, but Danny does. “You didn’t see the way he was when you left, Tess. He-he’s never been the same since.”

“Neither have I.” Her eyes are shining. “I haven’t been the same either, Danny. And you can sit and hate me for what I did to Scott, but know that you could not possibly even fathom how much I hate myself for it, how much I wish I could go back and do things differently. And Scott showing up…it felt like my chance to do better.”

“Is it enough?” Danny stands up, turns around, and sits on her coffee table before she has a chance to protest. “I know him, but I know you pretty well too, Tess. You know Scott better than anybody. You know the way he is right now- pretending everything is okay, pretending that he’s fine with the fact that he’s been there and you’ve been here, that you two aren’t actually being you two, you know that can’t last.” Danny grabs her hand. “Tutu, you know he’s going to explode soon. And I care about you, too. I don’t want all the fire to fall down on you. Whatever it is, whatever fight is leftover between you two that you’ve never resolved, you’ve got to get it out. Control the flames. If anyone can do it with Scotty, it’s gotta be you.”

Her voice is just a whisper. “We can’t keep living like this, can we?” Her eyes flash devastation, but then she blinks and there’s just the aftershocks left.

Danny shakes his head, giving Tessa a sad smile. “I love you, Tess, like you were my own sister. Whatever this is…” He gestures vaguely around the room, “this is not real, and it’s not right.” Tessa nods, feeling more determined, and Danny pulls her into him. “I cannot even tell you how much I have missed you.”

And it’s one more shot to her heart, because she realizes how much she missed Danny, too.

 

* * *

 

 

In the afternoon, they leave Allie and Trisha with Kate so they can drop Danny back off at the airport. Danny hugs both of them, Scott first, ruffling his hair and throwing in a jab about the appropriate length of hair for men close to forty, and then pulls Tessa to him, giving her a warm hug. “Make me proud, kiddo,” he whispers, and Tessa could cry, but instead she nods into his chest, the hours having made her even more determined. Scott and Tessa wait at the airport until Danny’s plane takes off.

“My mom is taking the girls to the zoo,” she says off-handedly, trying to deflect her nerves.

“Okay,” Scott says, and it’s now twenty-four hours he’s been avoiding eye contact. “So we’re just going…”

“Home,” Tessa finishes. His eyes flash like maybe he should contradict her, but he doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says again, and they walk towards a cab that’s parked at the curb.

“Scott,” she says as the door closes and the driver takes off toward their apartment. She hopes she doesn’t sound as terrified as she feels. “Scott, I think it’s about damn time you and I talk.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: fitslikeakey  
> Tumblr: fitslikeakey
> 
> Shoutout goes to my writing partners. You know who you are.


	11. You'll Make It Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all comes out. Twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the big one, guys. Grab some tissues and buckle up.
> 
> Also- this chapter and Chapter 10 were originally one chapter, so that's why they are a little shorter than usual.

_"Tess," he calls after her, catching the door of the girls' locker room before it has a chance to slam shut. He slips through, eyes darting around nervously, and locks the door behind him._

_“Scott, please,” she says, frustrated. “I just need a break, okay?”_

_“A break,” he repeats in disbelief. “The same kind of break you needed yesterday morning?”_

_“Yeah, there’s just been some things on my mind that I’m working through, don’t worry about it, really.” She turns away from him, staring at the ground near the lockers, and Scott feels like throwing his hands up in frustration._

_“I am worried, Tessa. You haven’t been yourself in weeks, what is going on? The other night when I came over to make dinner you locked yourself in your room. What else am I supposed to get out of that?” He approaches her, taking her hand into his. “Come on, Tess, please tell me what it is that I did wrong so that I can make it better and we can go back to normal, I can’t take this anymore.”_

 

* * *

 

 

“We need to talk, Scott, you’re still angry with me,” she says smoothly, following Scott back into the apartment and towards the kitchen. She feels completely calm, despite the tense ride back from the airport, and it makes her feel like herself in a way she hasn’t in a long time. She sets her purse on the counter and drops her sweater on a chair, continuing into the kitchen. He’s got a hand on the fridge handle but hasn’t opened it, and when she places a hand gently on his back, he tenses sharply. He's barely let her touch him in a week.

“I told you a while ago, Tess, I forgive you for the girls. I’ll always wish I had been there but I forgive you.”

“I know,” she murmurs, the hand moving to his arm and pulling him gently to face her. “You’re not mad at me for that.” Scott sucks in a breath as her fingers brush the skin on his biceps. “Come on, Scott, you need to admit it to yourself.”

“Admit what?” He asks, and Tessa can tell by the flicker in his eyes that he’s fighting not to be irritated by her prodding. “Did Danny try to talk to you? Because don’t worry about it, Tess, I told him we’re fine, we’re doing this our way.”

“We’re not fine, Scott,” she says, ignoring the goosebumps under her skin. “We haven’t been fine in a long time.”

Scott is frustrated, and he reaches up with his free hand and combs his fingers through his hair anxiously. “What’s wrong with this Tess? Don’t we have a good thing going? We’re taking care of the girls, and we get to see each other every day, and I can do some coaching from here, I’ve been working on routines this whole time, and…”

“Scott.” He stops, biting his lip. He’s fighting it, but Tessa knows him better. “You’re still holding yourself back,” she tries, hand dropping to his and squeezing tightly. “We can’t co-parent these girls if you’re not fully present with us.”

“I am present,” he insists.

“Why did you have sex with me last week?” She asks bluntly, changing tactics.

He shifts, uncomfortable. “I don’t know.” His eyes drift towards the TV. “Can we not talk about this right now? I think there’s a playoff game starting soon.”

“Scott,” she scoffs, stepping back into his eyesight. She takes her free hand and holds his gaze to her. “Why did you sleep with me last week?”

“I don’t know!” He says again insistently. “It was late, and I was tired, and probably on a high from what a weird week that was, and I hadn’t gone dancing in so long, especially not with you, and Natalia kept saying ‘just one night’, and it just kind of happened…”

“No it didn’t,” she counters. “Because if it had, it wouldn’t have happened again on Saturday morning.”

“You came on to me!”

“You were already naked in my bed, Scott. Was I supposed to see that as a slamming door in my face?”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” He’s twitching, his body protesting its stillness.

“See?” She gestures to him. “You’re not being present again.”

He groans loudly. “Jesus Christ, Tess, I am present. I am literally present, here, with you, with our girls.”

“No you’re not, Scotty. You’re not fully present with us, just like I suspect you haven’t been fully present with anyone in the last few years. You’ve been hiding from your family and Marie and Patch and especially from yourself. You’re angry.” She squeezes his hand again, and he stops looking at her. His face drops to the floor, his breathing becoming labored.

 

* * *

 

 

_“You didn’t do anything wrong, Scott,” she says, and when Scott tilts his head forward he can see that her eyes are tightly shut. He pulls her arm to turn her around, stepping immediately into her space, ignoring the breath she immediately sucks in._

_He takes both hands at her sides. “Tessa, you aren’t being yourself. We agreed, when we decided to do the comeback, that…that we wouldn’t keep secrets, that we would be honest about how we are feeling and what is going on with us. I know a lot of it was for me, because of how I was the last time, but Tess, I’m being mature about this, I swear, I’ve thought it through, I can handle it now.”_

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Scott. Do you want to just call off the break and go back and practice? I’m sure Romain would like to go through that step sequence again.”_

_“Forget the step sequence,” he says with a groan. “I really don’t give a damn about the step sequence right now.”_

_She raises an eyebrow. “Well there’s an issue we should discuss, since we agreed that we were going to be committed to our sport. We said that, Scott. We did our hug and we promised that this was it for a while, that you and me and skating was all we needed. Did you not mean that? Is there- is there something else?” She almost bites her lip, and Scott’s eyes flicker down before he answers._

 

* * *

 

 

“No,” Scott says, more to himself than to her.

Tessa knows instinctively she has to push further. “You’re angry,” she says again, “With life, with yourself, maybe a little, but more than anything you’re mad at me.” Her voice drops to whisper, and she has to choke out the next words. “Scott, I left you, six years ago. It had to hurt.” He pushes away from her, stepping out of the kitchen area and into the living room. She follows him again, watching his fists clench at his side. “We had a bad fight, our first bad fight.”

“I know.” He doesn’t turn, his shoulders tense, his arms clenched into fists at his sides, he’s counting in his head, willing himself to be calm, but that’s not what Tessa wants or needs right now.

“You told me that you didn’t think you could ever love anyone else the way you loved me.”

“Stop,” he says, his voice cracking, and his voice is so desperate that Tessa’s heart begs for her to give in, but her head presses her further.

“We’d been angry with each other for weeks.” He ignores her. “We were spinning circles around one another, daring each other to be the first to bring up our issues.”

“Please, stop.”

“You wanted us to keep skating together. I wanted to go live in Paris.”

“Tessa.” He pauses, still staring away from her at the TV. He’s terrified, his tone faint.  “ _Please._ ”

“Scott, you told me you didn’t think you could ever love anyone else the way you loved me and then I told you that loving you hurt me and then I left.”

“You ripped the rug out from under me, Tessa!” Scott shouts, finally flinging his whole body around and nearly knocking over a chair in the process. Tessa takes a step back and braces herself, stomach already twisting itself into knots. It’s time.

 “I told you that I loved you and I couldn’t ever even _think_ about loving anyone else the way that I loved you and you left me, you left _Canada._ ” His chest is rising and falling in his anger, and Tessa knows that she’s ripped the stitches open once and for all. “You left me on a Tuesday afternoon, didn’t even bother to take your fucking shampoo with you, and I didn’t even know if you were _alive_ for weeks _._ And then in the span of a couple months my mother went from healthy to leukemia to dead. Do you know what that year was like for me? You might have kept your pregnancy from me because you didn’t want to see me hurt, but God, Tessa,” he shakes his head, his eyes wet with tears, “that year I _wanted to die._ ” He lets out a huge breath, and Tessa is thankful that her mother has the girls at the zoo and there’s no danger of them walking in to see their parents fighting. “I didn’t set foot onto the ice for nine months after you were gone. Patch made me move in with him and Marie for a while because he was afraid I was going to drink myself to death. You were everything to me, everything, my whole life, my whole world, and then one day you were just gone.”

 

* * *

 

_“I am committed, Tessa. I am completely committed, to skating, and to me and you,” and as he speaks, he steps even closer to her, and she inches backward, squeaking a little in surprise when her back connects to the lockers behind her and there’s a loud slam. “Can you honestly say the same thing?”_

_“Why wouldn’t I be?” She manages, looking past his eyes._

_“Because your eyes are somewhere else when we skate, lately, Tess. I see you looking at me but you’re a million miles away, doing your own thing. And you- you act like I’m so painful to be around, like it’s some kind of charity when I come over at night, when I just want to spend time with you, whether that’s cooking, or Jeopardy, or even just sitting on the couch watching TSN while you read, I just really need to be around you, okay? I don’t mean to be some kind of puppy for you to take care of, if it’s too much I wish you’d just tell me, but I don’t think that’s it, is it?”_

_“I like it when you come over,” she answers softly. She’s staring at his shoulder now, even though he squeezing her hands, trying to get her to look up at him._

“ _Then what is it, T?” She looks up at him. His face is an inch away, nose nuzzling into her, eyes gazing into hers with an intensity that twists something inside her chest. “Please, just say it.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Tessa can feel the buried frustration welling up inside her, and instead of fighting it, she channels it. "Do you think it was fun for me? Do you think moving to a shoebox apartment in a brand-new city and a new country was just a cake-walk? I was terrified, Scott. I was scared of how badly I needed you and you were talking about getting married and settling down and I wanted it, Scott, I really did, but I was scared that settling down meant I would be Tessa-and-Scott forever."

"And what was so horrible about that?" Scott snaps. She gives him a sharp look. “No really, Tess, let it all out. What was so awful about being Tessa-and-Scott? It seemed pretty good from where I was standing.”

She reaches for his hand, but he yanks it away. "It wasn’t about you, Scott. I just,” she starts, wringing her hands into the air, “I just wanted to be Tessa, for once in my life I wanted just to be considered for me." She backs away from him, looking over at the stack of used sketchbooks from work sitting near the windowsill. Her head turns back, and she’s suddenly bitter. "You told me I couldn't do it."

His eyes widen. "Tess, I was upset."

"No," she says, and her voice is choked up. "If you get to be angry at me for all of this, I get to be angry with you for that. You, the person whose opinion I valued more than anyone in the world, you, my life-long partner, you, the person who had always believed in me and supported me and loved me unconditionally, you _told me I would fail_." She stares out the window, and she hears him creep up behind her, placing fingers lightly on her shoulder.

"You know I didn't mean it, even then."

She crosses her arms, and her voice is quiet. "All I needed you to say was that you believed in me. All I needed you to do was to believe that we could be Tessa and Scott without being Tessa-and-Scott. And you couldn't."

"I just didn't want you to leave, Tess. I would have said anything to try to get you to stay."

“But why?” She turns, and all of a sudden they’re in each other’s space, his face just a few centimeters from hers. She sucks in a breath, and steps away. “How could you have such little faith in us, Scott? We’d been together for twenty-two years, and we were doing so well living together in Montreal, you were helping out with Marie and Patch, and we could take breaks from each other when we needed it, I didn’t have to worry about spending a week or two in Toronto for work, it was perfect, and it wasn’t like we had a ring or anything…” His eyes flash, and she cuts herself off. “Oh Scott. _Oh_.”

His head drops, and her hand fly up to her mouth. “Of course you had a ring.”

 

* * *

 

 

_“If I knew the right thing to say, I would say it, Scott,” she answers bitterly. “If I knew how to fix this, how to put myself back together so we could go back to normal, I would. I would give anything just to feel normal again.”_

_His eyes are shooting sparks, his grip on her hands steady. “Why did you kiss me after Worlds, Tessa?”_

_“I don’t know, it was adrenaline, we finally got our perfect season, we skated really well, I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry, I just…”_

_“I’m not mad you kissed me,” He says, “I just want to know why you kissed me.”_

_“Because…because it was the first thing that I thought that I wanted to do, Scott, I didn’t think about it or anything, you were just standing there grinning at me and I just thought well, screw it, and…”_

_“That’s not you,” he interrupts. “Tessa Virtue doesn’t say ‘screw it’ to anything, ever.” He finally lets go with one hand, reaching out and cupping her face. “You’ve thought about it before, Tess, admit it, I know you, baby.” The term of endearment slips out of his mouth, and even though her eyes are wide, she doesn’t move._

 

* * *

 

 

He’s silent for a minute, staring at her feet. “Of course I had a ring, Tess.” He looks up at her, and it’s like he’s gone back in time for just a moment. “I’d only been in love with you for two thirds of my life at that point, only won five Olympic medals with you. Shit, by that point I’d bought two rings for you.”

“Two rings?”

The tension in his face has loosened for just a moment, and he looks wistful. “One, that I bought a year after Pyeongchang. I had Mathieu and Marie come with me, we found a jeweler that customized and he built me this beautiful intricate filigree ring, he described it to me in a hundred different ways using a million words I didn’t know and when Marie and I went to pick it up, she cried, and told me how proud she was for me.” He’s staring past her, remembering.

“And the other one?”

“The other one I bought when I was twenty-one years old. In 2008.” He looks at her, and it’s like she can see straight through to his heart, remembering the same aching moments as she does. “You’d been back in Canton for…a month, I guess… and we went to some mall because you thought I needed new jeans and I was so happy to have you back I would have done anything you wanted me to. I bought you a pretzel at the food court, and when we walking around, sharing it, this ring in a display at the jewelry store caught your eye. And you pointed it out to me, and said that it was just like your grandmother’s ring, the one she’d lost right before she got sick.” He clears his throat. “Tess, the next day I went back to the store and I bought it. I don’t know why. We weren’t anywhere near dating at the time. We were barely even friends again, I just saw how it made your eyes light up and I couldn’t stop myself.”

She takes his hands, softly, pressing them to her chest, stepping into his space again. “I can’t believe you never told me that, Scott.”

“Yeah, well.” He stares at his hands. “It seemed insane even after we got together. Plus I didn’t want you to think I was rushing it, we were so new and I didn’t want to scare you away, and…” She touches his cheek. “I was just afraid, Tess, that I was in it for forever and you were in it because it was convenient. I needed you.”

Scott's head is throbbing, and he walks in a circle around the living room, touching his fingers to his temples. Tessa watches him, her fingers nervously doing a dance where they're now resting next to her legs. "I needed you too, Scott," She says finally. “When you said that…that’s when I realized I had to go.”

He drops into a squat on the white rug, his hands coming forward and covering his eyes. She moves over to him, lowering to her knees and taking his hands from his face. When he looks up at her, his eyes are bloodshot. "I'm so sorry, Tess. I've believed in you every day of the last thirty years. I should have told you that."

 

* * *

 

 

_She’s quiet, thoughtful, and if it weren’t for the continued reassurance of her skin under his moving fingers, he might think she’s disappeared. “It’s a bad idea, Scott. It could ruin our friendship, it could ruin our whole careers, God, Scott, it could ruin us.”_

_“Why?” He asks stubbornly. “Why would it ruin us?”_

_She changes the subject. “Why now?” She asks, broken. “Why can’t we just go for gold and then sort it all out afterwards, why does it have to be so urgent?”_

_“Because I lay in bed at night and I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, hand still stroking her face. “Because I remember your rainbow pajamas from when you were thirteen. Because I should have figured out years ago that no matter how many years were going by or how many medals or practices, the thing I was seeking after most was just holding your hand, as long as I possibly could. Because lately every time I’m supposed to set you down after a lift, I just want to hold you, latch on and never let go.” His eyes are blurring. “Because this thing that’s always been there between us is happening, right now, whether we want it to or not, and I’m so tired of fighting it, Tess, I don't think I can do it anymore.”_

_“Scott,” she says, and he can tell by the look in her eyes that she’s terrified, just like he is, but he leans forward the tiny distance that it takes and settles his lips onto hers._

 

* * *

 

 

“I know you believed in me,” she says again, and they both lower to the floor, their hands intertwined. “I was so ashamed,” she starts, her reddening eyes on the floor, “because when I found out about the girls, my first thought wasn’t about the fact that I was becoming a mother, or that I was having your kids, it was that everyone was right about us, that we were destined to always be Tessa-and-Scott and there was nothing I could do about it. That was the first reason I didn’t tell you about the girls, way before I ever got sick.” Her head jerks back up to him. “I know you’ve forgiven me for the girls, Scott, and I appreciate it. But are you ever going to be able to forgive me for leaving?”

Scott exhales. Tessa is vaguely aware of the light tears falling down her cheeks, and as Scott sees them, his jaw clenches, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to brush them away. He starts in on a different track. “After Christmas the year you left, Patrice came and dragged me out of my condo. I was drunk and hungover at the same time, I hadn’t gone home to see my family, and I’m pretty sure I hadn’t had anything to eat in about two days, and probably hadn’t slept more than three hours a night in months. When we got to the rink, Patch forced my skates on me and dropped me off at Gadbois with a key at midnight, and he told me that cutting off my arm to spite my leg was not going to help anything. I sat on the ice for hours, staring at the poster on the wall celebrating our Olympic wins in 2018, along with that framed picture of us with our moms from when we were kids. I played the music from our warm-up playlist on my phone, and when I finally got up, it was because it switched to a Hall and Oates song and I had started choreographing a dance to it in my head.” He pauses, shaking his head at her. “By the time Patch and Marie got to the rink at six, I had the whole skate planned out. Patch gave me a job on the spot – forced me, is more like it- and then he made me promise to never take a sip of alcohol when I was thinking about you ever again.”

“ _Scott_ ,” she whispers, and her heart is breaking all over again.

He reaches up, stroking her damp cheek with his thumb, their bodies melding together on the rug. “I love you, Tessa. God knows I always have, and I probably always will, and if last weekend was any indication, I am absolutely horseshit when it comes to saying no to you.”

“I love you too,” she says immediately. She sees the conflict in his eyes. “But?”

“I want to forgive you,” he says hoarsely, insistently. “You have no idea how much I want to embrace this life with you, pretend that we’ve been doing all this together for the last six years and that everything else didn’t happen. But you never came back. Every time I look at you I see that suitcase rolling out the door.” He swallows, a tear sliding down his face. “And I don’t know how to fix that, Tess.”

Her face falls and she sniffs loudly, her gaze falling to the floor. “You have to leave, don’t you?”

“I can’t stay here,” he says, but even as he says it he’s wrapping an arm around her. She leans into him, desperate. “Every day I’m here it gets harder and harder to think about leaving.” When she starts crying again, he pulls her fully into him, and lets her tears fall into his shirt.

 

* * *

 

 

_She’s back up against the lockers, and his hands are in her hair, pulling it out of its ponytail, freeing her, unraveling her. Her nails are digging into his back even through his pullover, and even though he’d just as soon yank it off his body, he holds back, content to just be with her like this. He can’t remember what time it is, can’t remember that he’s in Montreal or that they’re training for the Olympics again, it’s all down to Tessa, just Tessa. It’s the smoothness of her cheek and the little gasps that she’s emitting that are somehow the cutest thing he’s ever heard and are also driving him absolutely wild. It should feel like giving in and letting go and it is, it really is, but at the same time it feels like it’s the most important thing he’s ever done, like Scott’s finally found where he belongs._

_“I love you,” he says, breaking them apart, and he knows he’s failing at hiding the fact that he’s tearing up. “I’m sorry, I can’t wait to figure this out until after the Olympics, because I figured out a while ago and it’s been slowly driving me mad. I love you, and it won’t go away, and maybe it’s always been there and I was too much of an idiot to know, but I know now, and I can’t hide it from you anymore, Tess, if I can’t tell my best friend that I’m in love, then, God, who the hell can I tell?”_

_She’s emotional, too. “I’m scared, Scott.”_

_He pulls her back into him, just like for competitions. “Me too.” He holds her, soothes her, until he feels her heart rate slowing down. “Whatever happens, Tess, it’s going to be you and me, no matter what, I love you.”_

_It’s a full minute before he hears her whisper into his shoulder. “I love you too.”_

 

* * *

 

 

They’re silent for a long time. He’s leaning against the base of the couch, and she’s in his lap, crying for their girls, crying for him, crying for the version of them that had messed up so terribly in a previous life. He’s rubbing circles in her back gently, tenderly. She’s not sure whether it makes her feel better or worse, so much worse. For her part, she’s got her arms wrapped around his stomach as tightly as she can, willing him not to disappear, holding on to every minute she has left with him. It has to be fifteen minutes before he finally speaks.

“I think I can stay one more week, spend some more time with the girls, but after that, I need to go.”

She doesn’t lift her head up, doesn’t even try, is ashamed of the mascara stain she’s certainly left on his shirt, but she nods into his chest. “You can come back and see them, any time.”

“I will.” His voice breaks. “In case I haven’t said it yet, Tess, thanks for taking care of them. They’re two of the most incredible girls in the world, just like their mother. Thanks for being a good mother to them.”

“And you,” she keeps talking into his chest, “you’ve already been, God Scott, you’ve already been the most incredible father to them, just like I always knew you would be.”

“Well thank you,” he says, and his tone is a little different, “but I’m not a God, I’m just their dad.” She smacks his chest and they’re both giggling, of all things.

“I love you,” she says simply. It's all there is left to say.

“I love you too, Tess. No matter what happens.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me! There's nowhere to go but up. 
> 
>  
> 
> Up Next: They try to move on. 
> 
> Much thanks to the rest of the Holy Trinity for their help with this chapter.


	12. Take This Sinking Boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa and Scott try to move on.

The scene feels like something out of a sad romantic comedy.

“Daddy, I don’t want you to go,” Allie whines, tugging again on Scott’s sleeve.

“Sweetheart,” he answers, dropping his duffel and kneeling to pull her small body into his, “we’ve talked about this already. I have to get back to my job in Canada, remember?”

“But why?” Trisha pleads, and the scene is so similar to what had happened before his departure to Boston that he starts to smile, but the corners of his mouth turn down when he remembers how much longer the new separation will last.

“Girls, don’t worry,” he says, not sure if he’s trying to reassure them or himself, “we’re going to talk on the phone all the time, okay? And I’ll be back in a few weeks for your first ballet recital, and then, a few weeks after that, you girls get to come to Canada to see me! Doesn’t that sound like fun? You’ll get to see Cam and Noah and Miss Marie and Mister Patch, too. And, you can meet my dog! I’m sure he misses me, I’ve been gone an awfully long time.”

The girls don’t look convinced. “Mommy, make Daddy stay,” Trisha says petulantly. Tessa looks up from where she’s been waiting several feet away, her eyes focused on the floor of her apartment.

“Your daddy has to go home, girls,” she says softly, not looking up.

Trisha is on the verge of her first tantrum in months, and Allie doesn’t look far behind her. “But _why_?” Allie demands, stamping her foot.

“Because this isn’t his home,” Tessa says, looking up at Scott suddenly. Her gaze is challenging, sad. “And we can’t force him to stay.”

Her words cut at him like a knife, even though he knows she’s right. “It’s not really goodbye, it’s just see you later.” The girls cling to him as he kneels again, hugging both of them tightly and kissing each on the head. “I promise you girls, you’re not losing me, not ever.”

“Pinky swear?” Allie asks innocently.

“Where did you learn to pinky swear?” Tessa asks sharply.

“From Elliot at school,” Trisha says, and Tessa sighs.

Scott holds out a pinky on both hands, and Allie takes the right, Trisha the left, their small hands wrapping around his fingers. “I pinky swear. You’re never losing me. I love my peanuts too much for that.”

“Allie, Trisha,” Kate calls from the living room. “You’d better let your dad go now. Why don’t you help me with these brownies?”

Scott wraps them up in his arms one more time, and his grip is so tight that they lift off the ground. “I love you, Allie,” he murmurs into her hair.

“I love you Daddy,” Allie answers, her eyes drifting to the brownies that Kate has placed on the kitchen table.

“I love you, Trisha,” he says next.

“I love you more!” Trisha says, trying to force herself to grin.

Scott chuckles, setting them down gently. “Impossible.”

As Kate guides them to the kitchen, Scott’s eyes drift to Tessa. “Walk me to my car?” It’s been in long-term parking for over two months.

 “Okay,” she answers softly. When they close the apartment door behind them, he reaches out with his free hand and laces his fingers with hers.

It’s been a week since their fight. Last Monday, they had managed to go the entire day without being alone together, Scott retiring to his room as soon as the girls were in bed. On Wednesday, they’d made it through a movie sitting silently on opposite ends of the couch. By Saturday morning, they’d had to separate themselves after some spilled flour had led to an overly intimate teasing fight involving tickling, and Scott had known for sure that it was time for him to leave.

Their short walk to the lot is mostly quiet, the pair huddled together under an umbrella of Tessa’s, avoiding the unseasonably chilly rain. Tessa doesn’t say anything when he keeps holding her hand, keeping her close to him, even as they navigate around the other rain-soaked New Yorkers. When they reach the cover of the parking garage, they both exhale, relieved, shaking water off their jackets. “New York is supposed to be warmer, I think,” Scott says off-handedly as they wait for an elevator in the dark lot.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Tessa responds, flicking some water from her sleeve onto his hand. “I guess you’ll just have to pack up and take off.”

“Guess so,” he echoes and neither of them laugh. When they step into the small, cramped elevator, he puts an arm around her. She leans into him further, willing away the distance. They’re silent as the elevator lifts them five stories up.

They reach his car, still quiet, and Scott freezes when they reach it. “Tess…” he says, his voice thick. His eyes drift over her face, memorizing every line, every millimeter, every atom.

“No matter what happens, right?” she says, fixing a smile on her face. There was a time when he would have poked her cheek, upset with her for using her interview smile on him, but he nods instead.

“No matter what happens, Tess.” He leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers and her back into the silver car. His eyes close, and he focuses on their breathing for a moment; In, out, in, out. After they match for a few moments, he opens them, searching her face again. Her eyes are still closed tightly, and when he sees that she’s biting her lip, he makes a soft noise of surprise. She starts to open her own eyes and he immediately brings his mouth forward to hers.

It’s brief, almost chaste. His lips move against hers gently, as if in reverie, and hers are hesitant, responding to his movements instead of initiating her own.

“I wish you could stay,” she says after they break apart, her eyes still closed and her hands stroking circles in his messy hair.

“Me too,” he whispers into her own hair. “God, you have no idea how much I wish I could stay.”

“We’ll be the best co-parent friends the world has ever seen,” she promises, to him and to herself. It’s a little hard to believe when his arms are still wrapped around her waist and her mouth is still wet from his lips.

“And whenever you or the girls need _anything_ , Tess, and I mean anything…”

“I’ll call you first.”

He nods, and slowly they break away from one another. The weight of everything left between hangs in every molecule of space separating them.

“No matter what happens, Tess,” he says again.

It’s not until she watches his car exit the lot several floors below that she allows herself to sink to the ground of his empty parking space and finally cry.

 

* * *

 

 

Canada has never felt less like home.

That’s what he thinks, anyway, entering his dark, empty condo close to midnight. There is a layer of dust on every surface he sees, and a smell like months’ old garbage, though when Scott checks his kitchen trash can the bag appears to have been freshly changed. Patch has left a note welcoming him back, while also demanding/requesting him back at the rink immediately, and with the lump Scott feels deep in his stomach, he thinks maybe he needs to be there as much as the rink needs him.

He’s reminding himself that seven short hours later, pulling up to the building after what may be the worst night’s sleep he’s ever had. His head is throbbing and all the stale coffee in the world isn’t going to be enough to make up for the aching in his bones or the longing in his heart. The rink is already busy, Marie’s newest senior team taking the unlucky 4 am slot for the upcoming year, and when Scott passes the locker rooms on his way to the office, he hears a pair of shouts.

“Finally!” Noah says, a rare open smile gracing his face. “Thought maybe you were going full American on us, man.”

Scott shakes his head, trying to brush off everything in his head that isn’t skating. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, eh? Never.”

“I knew you’d be back,” Cam answers, grinning. “Otherwise Noah and I would have to move to New York, and I don’t think we’re ready for that step yet, one of us would have to figure out how to drive first.”

He has to smile at the implied loyalty, his first smile since he’d left New York fifteen hours before. “Nah, you’re stuck with me. Unless you don’t want to beat my Olympic record? Because if that’s the case, feel free to…”

“No, no,” Noah interrupts, his face a little pink. “We just thought that…well, after we saw you with your family, we thought maybe…”

The smile disappears. “No,” Scott answers quietly. He looks past Noah, toward where he knows there’s a picture of his mother attached to the wall down the hallway. “No, you’re stuck with me here.” He clears his throat, adding some conviction to his voice. “This is home.”

Cam grins again, but Scott can tell that Noah sees the hurt in his eyes. As Cam skips down the hallway to put on her skates, Noah puts a hand on Scott’s shoulder.

“I know you’re like fifty years older than me or whatever, but if you need someone to talk to about your girl problems…”

Scott pats his hand. “Then I’d talk to Patch, or Marie, or maybe one of my brothers, or my dad, or my littlest four year old niece, or basically anyone besides a sixteen year old boy.” Noah scoffs. “I appreciate it, buddy. But correct me if I’m wrong, didn’t you hide in a changing room two months ago to avoid your girl problems?”

Noah’s face is pink again, and Scott claps him on the back. “Don’t worry about me, Noah. Let’s worry about getting you and Cam ready to be seniors next year.” He still looks put off. “Really, Noah,” Scott tries, changing tactics. “You and Cam have no idea how much your lives are going to change in the next few years. Be young while you can, enjoy life while you can, don’t bother worrying about this old man.”

“It’s not a bother,” Noah protests. He shuffles his feet back and forth, and Scott raises his eyebrows, confused.

“Is this still about you being worried about Cam growing up, or…”

“No,” Noah groans. “I just…” He steps past Scott, looking down the hall blankly for a few seconds. “You know my dad left when I was eight, right?”

“I…yeah,” Scott answers, surprised. “Your mom mentioned that once or twice.”

“I don’t have any older brothers, or uncles anywhere nearby, all I have is my grandpa, who can barely tie his own shoes anymore. It fucking _sucks_ , man. But you…you’re like the closest thing I have to a real dad.”

Scott takes a step back, his back hitting the wall. “Noah, I didn’t realize.” He pauses. “You were afraid I was leaving you too, weren’t you?”

Noah’s hand drifts up to the back of his dirty blonde hair. “I guess I just thought…”

“Noah.” Scott places both of his hands on the younger boy’s shoulders. “No matter what happens, you’re not going to lose me. Not as your coach, not as…whatever you need me to be.” Noah nods, looking down at the floor. “Let’s go skate, okay?” He starts to walk away.

“Hey Scott?” Noah calls out from behind him. He turns halfway back around. “Just so you know,” he says, catching up, “the girls- your daughters, they’re really lucky. As far as dads go, you’re pretty much the best.”

He keeps walking, leaving Scott alone in the hallway. It’s several seconds before Scott’s mind is clear enough to make it into the rink to coach.

 

* * *

 

 

For Tessa, the first few weeks following Scott’s departure from New York make her feel like she’s living her life with a missing limb. She gets up in the morning and fixes breakfast- the girls either whine because they’re just having plain cereal or because if she tries to fix chocolate chip pancakes, she doesn’t do it right, at least not the way _Daddy_ would do it. She walks the girls to her mom’s apartment, nearly making herself late for work on a daily basis because she’s not used to the extra commute time anymore.

At work, she spends half her time distracted, her subconscious expecting Scott to walk in at any random moment to help out with the construction, even though it’s finally done, or to bring her lunch, or even just to pester her at her desk, which he’d done a few times and Natalia had merely laughed off. Now, Natalia keeps looking at her with sympathetic eyes, which she hates, saying things like “you should take a vacation, really,” and “why don’t you take off early, go spend time with your girls? I can handle the rest of the day”, both of which make Tessa want to pull her hair out.

Kate’s no help either, constantly offering to come over to make dinner when she goes back to pick up the girls. She feels like a broken record with “No, Mom, really, I’m fine, I can take care of our dinner, I can take care of the girls.” She wants to spit out “I took care of the girls by myself for five years, why shouldn’t I be able to handle them by myself now,” but she doesn’t, partially because it’s rude but mostly because she knows it’s a lie.

She knows it’s a lie every night at eight PM sharp when he calls from Montreal to talk to the girls, to ask them about their day, to excite them with stories about how Cam and Noah and his other teams are doing with their programs, and to wish them good night. She knows it’s a lie when he finally addresses her at the end of the call, saying “And good night, Tess,” before hanging up the phone, a note of something to his voice that she absolutely refuses to identify. But she really knows it’s a lie when she hangs up the phone, kisses the girls good night, and walks back into the living room feeling suddenly, sharply alone.

Scott’s been gone for over three weeks before Natalia finally says anything. “Get up,” she says suddenly one day, tapping her heels impatiently next to Tessa’s desk.

“Hang on,” Tessa says absentmindedly, her pencil softly stroking over the sketch idea for a skirt that she’s been working on most of the morning.

“Nope,” Natalia says, gently grabbing the pencil out of her hand. “Tess, honey, stop.”

Fifteen minutes later they’re sitting outside a French café three blocks north, one Tessa immediately realizes Scott had brought her lunch from on at least six different occasions, which would be _fine_ if he’d ever mentioned exactly which of their five turkey sandwiches that he’s been bringing her that he’d known she would love, but she doesn’t know which it is, and she’s in the middle of getting frustrated about that when Natalia clicks her tongue to get her attention. “You could text him and ask him, you know.”

“No,” she mutters. “No, I can’t.”

“Tessaaaaa,” Natalia drags out. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”

“What happened with what?” Natalia gives her a look in response, an _oh, please_ , and Tessa relents. “He was never staying forever, he was just getting to know the girls, and then he had to go back.”

“And it had nothing to do with you,” Natalia says. “Even though it definitely had everything to do with you.”

“Tallie, I don’t really want to…” Tessa is interrupted by the arrival of the waitress.

“I’ll take the chef salad,” Natalia tells her, a short, young looking blonde girl with a ponytail and a pencil behind her ear. “She will take the turkey and pesto, no onion, cheddar instead of swiss.” The girl gives Tessa a look, and she nods wordlessly.

“How did you…”

“Texted Scott before we left the office, I knew you wouldn’t remember,” Natalia says with a bit of a smirk. “He answered in about two minutes, and told me to remind you to order the chocolate tart for dessert.” Tessa frowns, looking down at the wooden table. “I’m sorry Tess, I didn’t think I’d be getting into any…”

“It’s okay,” she says in a low voice. “You didn’t know.”

Natalia sighs. “I know there’s no way of me understanding in one lunch what has been going on with you two over the course of the last three decades, but…you seemed really happy while he was here, Tess. Happier than I’ve ever seen you, probably.”

“I was only playing myself, trying to convince myself that everything that happened that made me leave him in the first place had just vanished and that we could start over.” Tessa’s entire demeanor is glum.

Natalia is quiet for a minute, and Tessa is blissfully grateful for the interruption of car horns in the background and the quiet chirp of birds from above. “Maybe,” she says finally. “I just…I don’t think that you really see the way that he is around you, Tessa, the way you both are around each other. Maybe you used to know it was there, but I don’t think you realize that it’s still there. It’s like you orbit around each other, always balancing and doing things for each other before you even figure out that you need help. It’s different. And I don’t think you can just get rid of that by living a few hundred miles apart.”

“What else am I supposed to do, Tallie? Ask him to pretend that he’s not still mad at me? Ask him to set aside his whole life to be with me? I left him so I could be my own person, I’m hardly going to ask him to give up his life so he can just be a part of mine.”

Their lunch arrives then and then they’re busy with eating, the sandwich exactly as delicious as Tessa remembers it being. It’s not until they’ve paid the check and started their walk back to the office that Natalia strikes up conversation again. “I’m sorry I pushed the whole Theo thing on you, you know. I wouldn’t have done it for a second if I had known…”

“Known what?” Tessa says, a hint of a bitter taste in her mouth. “Known I was never going to be put back together enough for some other guy to be able to handle me?”

Natalia turns to her, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “Tessa, you’re my best friend, I hope you know that. I would do anything for you. If I had known that a few hours away, there was a man that could make you smile like you did for that many weeks, even if it _was_ just temporary, I would have been in Montreal in a second dragging him here. And I guess part of me is wondering if right now I should be doing that exact thing.”

Tessa shakes her head, wrapping her arms around Natalia. “I love you for even thinking that. But it’s not going to fix what’s broken between Scott and me.”

“Okay,” Natalia says unexpectedly. “Just…promise me you won’t stop trying, okay? Because regardless of what you think, you deserve to be that happy. And I know Scott thinks so too.”

“How?”

“Because he told me,” Natalia answers simply, and Tessa is jealous of the glint in her eyes.

Tessa starts walking again, and Natalia matches her pace. When they get to an intersection cars are passing through, she looks back at her friend. “I promise, Tallie. I won’t stop trying.”

For the first time since their fight, Tessa feels the barest glint of hope.

 

* * *

 

 

“So the final pose will have you sort of twisted down on your knees, Noah, and Cam will be laying across you just like in this sketch, and then that will be the end of your free program,” Scott says, his eyes nervously darting back and forth between Cam and Noah. He leans back in his seat. “So, what do you all think?”

“It’s perfect,” Cam says excitedly. “I love the new lift, and the twizzles will fit perfectly in with the theme of the music. I’m not sure we’re _ready_ to do it, but…”

“Nonsense,” Scott answers with a smile. “If you were ready, it wouldn’t be the right program for you. And it’s going to get you right into seniors next year.” They both turn to Noah. “What do you think, boss?”

Noah is a little more apprehensive than his partner. “I’m not crazy about the music, but if you think we can do it…”

Cam squeezes his hand. “Of course we can do it!” She beams, but Noah’s eyes are still on Scott, and suddenly Scott’s remembering the conversation they’d had right after his return from New York.

“You can do it, Noah,” Scott says firmly, looking directly into his eyes. “I know that you two can do it.”

“All right,” Noah says in a solemn voice, and when Cam starts to tackle him, Scott takes his cue to leave.

“Study your binders, guys, I want to start working on this free first thing Monday morning. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

He exits the rink conference room quickly, thinking he might very much like to spend the rest of his day in front of the TV watching the Tigers attempt (and likely fail to) win some baseball, but when he reaches the main lobby of the rink, Marie-France is sitting at the desk waiting for him. “Marie? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says with a little smirk. “Summer Saturdays are supposed to be off-limits for juniors, you know.”

“I know, but I _just_ figured out the whole of Cam and Noah’s free for this season, and I texted them last night and they couldn’t wait to see it, so we agreed…” Scott trails off at Marie’s scrutinizing look. “Oh god, don’t fire me, I’m unqualified for literally every other career out there.”

Marie chuckles. “That’s not why I’m here, Scott. I just wanted to talk to you about something, and my husband suggested last night that it was about time that I did just that.” She inspects his outfit, black sweatpants, an unusually clean white t-shirt, and an ancient blue Lindt chocolate pullover. “Perhaps you could run home to change and then meet me for brunch?”

“Um, I don’t know if…”

Marie knows him too well, she simply looks at him and waits. “Okay,” he says eventually.

As she walks towards the outside door with him, she looks at him with a bit of mischief in her eyes. “We’ll discuss your future employment at brunch.”

He knows she’s kidding, but there’s a star-struck eighteen-year-old looking at one of his role models still somewhere inside him, and his stomach twists just a little.

 

* * *

 

 

Tessa thinks there’s possibly nowhere she’d like to be any _less_ than the park this Saturday morning. The girls had gone to the park only sporadically in the past, and even then, they’d gone to Central Park, and certainly not on Saturday mornings, when every kid and their mother and cousin went to the park during the summer. It was _Scott_ who had convinced the girls that Washington Square Park’s playground was more fun, and _Scott_ who had decided that park-visiting should be a weekly activity on the mornings when she’d historically left the girls in their pajamas and ordered delivery breakfast so they could watch TV together and enjoy peace and quiet.

She’s bemoaning her newfound fate as they walk up to the playground late in the morning, both of the girls tugging on her hands as soon as the swings are in site. “Mommy come _on_ ,” Trisha says urgently. “There’s only two swings free!”

When they’re twenty feet away, Tessa finally relents. “Okay, okay, go have fun, girls. Remember to make sure you can see me, and don’t talk to any strangers, okay? Oh, and be safe. Don’t jump off anything too tall.”

“Yes Mommy,” they answers together, and they scurry off.

Tessa blessedly finds an empty bench near the swings, and she settles down with their bags, resigned to her fate.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s nearly forty-five minutes after leaving the rink that Scott makes it to the restaurant Marie had suggested, surprised to find her sitting in a booth alone. “I figured Patch would be here,” he says, sliding in across from her. “Is he coming?”

“No,” she answers, and his stomach twists again. “Scott, _relax_ , you know I was kidding about you getting fired, right?”

“Right,” Scott says, still not entirely convinced. “I know I was gone a long time, and I’m really sorry, but I’m back now, and the teams are going to be better than ever, I promise, so…”

“I’m quite aware,” Marie says, smiling, “And if anything, you’re going to have to leave soon because some other rink is going to offer you a lot of money to train their seniors and Gadbois will be much worse off for it, but as I said, that is not why I invited you to brunch.”

“Oh,” Scott says faintly, scratching his ear. “Just thought you might like a good Belgian waffle?”

“Just thought I might like to apologize to my friend of twenty years,” she says effectively, and Scott snaps his mouth shut. “For the way I was treating you in Boston. It was unfair of me to treat you as if you were a child, when you are not.”

“Oh.”

They place their orders, and Marie continues. “I was upset,” she says, “with you, a little, but especially with Tessa. I was hurt because I felt as though she lied to me. It was wrong of me to treat you as if you’d wronged me as well.”

“I wasn’t exactly up-front when I figured out the truth about her, and the girls,” Scott admits. “The past few months have been a bit of a blur.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Scott,” she replies emphatically. “But…as a friend…can I ask?”

Scott looks at her, calculating, before nodding. “I’m a father,” he starts, “of two incredibly beautiful, smart little girls. I didn’t know that for a long time, for a lot of reasons, some of which I was pretty upset about at first. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t change the fact that I have two perfect twin daughters and I will do anything to protect them, to make them happy.”

“And you just forgave Tessa for hiding them from you,” Marie comments, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes.”

“How?”

He sighs. “A lot of reasons. I’m shit at being mad at her, that’s the most obvious, of course. Because my mom wouldn’t have wanted me to hold it against her, that’s another. But honestly? The reason that really made the difference was that being mad at her for something she didn’t mean to do to hurt me was going to hurt the girls even more than it would hurt us. And I’m not willing to do that.”

“I see,” Marie says, reflective. She reaches out, touching his hand that’s resting lightly on the table. “So…if you can forgive her for that, why are you back here? I know you, Scotty, it’s not as if you’re anywhere close to being over her, no matter how hard you’ve tried.”

“Because even if I can forgive what happened in New York, it doesn’t change what happened in Montreal,” he says, and Marie squeezes his hand. “Because I can forgive her as the mother of my kids, but I can’t forgive her as the woman who broke my heart six years ago, Marie. I wish I could. I tried so hard to, but no matter how long I stayed in New York, I couldn’t make it go away. She left me. I don’t know how to forgive her for that, no matter how much I…” He stops, choking back a tear, because it’s been thirty years and yet somehow it’s still hard to talk about his feelings for Tessa with anyone but Tessa.

“No matter how much you love her?” Marie fills in. Scott nods, his voice gone. “And yet, speak of the devil,” she comments, her head pointing down to his phone, where a picture of Tessa is flashing, the girls splayed out on top of her in matching pajamas. “Better answer that.”

“Tess?” Scott answers hesitantly. “I didn’t think we were supposed to talk until later.”

Her voice sounds a million miles away. “Scott, I don’t think you need to be worried or anything,” she says, despite the fact that she’s clearly terrified. One of the girls is crying in the background and Scott finds himself standing up before she finishes her sentence. “The girls and I were at the park this morning, and I glanced away for like a split second, because an older kid threw a ball and it landed right next to me, and when I looked back, Trisha was on the ground- I think she must have fallen off the swing or something, but I don’t know for sure, Allie didn’t see either and Trisha’s been crying too hard to tell me. I’ll keep you updated, we’re going to check in at the emergency room, I just wanted to make sure you knew…”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he interrupts, and he hangs up the phone, his eyes frantic as he sinks back down to the booth, her words hitting him. “Tessa….Trisha fell….the park…hospital…” He manages, trying to slow down his breathing.

Marie stands up, taking his hand again. “We’d better get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @fitslikeakey  
> Tumblr: fitslikeakey
> 
> Comments are life.


	13. And Point It Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marie watches.

_She’s just starting to try to shake her head of the steps to the original dance and into the free when she sees them in them in the corner, bickering. It’s the new senior team- she and Patrice have been casually keeping up with them for a few years now, ever since an rogue interviewer had asked them about the future of ice dancing and mentioned the two of them. She’s still having a hard time accepting them as seniors, even though she knows he’s nearly twenty and she’ll be eighteen in just a few short months, they look more like preteens. At least until the second they step out onto the ice._

_“They’ve been at that for ten minutes,” Patch whispers into her ear, startling her. “He hasn’t let go of her arm since.”_

_“Any idea what they’re arguing about?” Marie-France whispers back._

_“Something to do with her safety. He’s very passionate about that.”_

_Marie snorts. “You male ice dancers are all the same.” She reaches her arm back, pinching his side. “Should we intervene?”_

_“No, I don’t think that’s such a good…” Patch calls, but she’s already halfway to them._

_“Scott, Tessa, you did so well today,” Marie says warmly, her Quebecois accent intentionally laid on especially thick. “How did it feel?”_

_“Good!” Tessa chirps, her cheeks turning red to match her hair. “We felt really good about all our lifts, lost a few points in the transition halfway through but…”_

_“I’m more worried about Tessa,” Scott interrupts. “Not our points.” His eyes are trained on her, barely sparing a glimpse at the older woman, even as Patrice approaches from behind._

_“I’m fine,” Tessa answers in a small voice._

_“Scott, maybe you could explain…” Patrice starts, but Scott’s still ignoring them, sliding a hand up her cheek and into her hair._

_“Tess,” he mutters, “You winced. On at least three of our lifts, when I was holding you by the legs. You winced.”_

_“It doesn’t matter,” Tessa answers, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand steady, “we did fine, my legs are fine, they’re not hurting.”_

_“It’s happened before, Tutu,” he chastises her, “It could happen again.” It’s at precisely that moment that Marie notices him caressing her ear that she realizes she and Patrice might as well not even be standing there._

_“It won’t, Scott,” she says, and she tucks her head into his shoulder. “We’re not going to stop skating, I promise. I wouldn’t do that to you.”_

_Scott’s arms slide around her back, but he doesn’t seem convinced. Still, Tessa’s hand scratching at the crown of his head makes his eyes finally relax. “Okay, Tess,” he says. “Okay.”_

 

* * *

 

 

They make the entire drive back down to New York in silence, apart from a few tensely exchanged questions from Marie and answers from Scott. Marie drives, she _insists_ that she be the one to drive, even has to snatch Scott’s keys out of his hands in the parking lot of the diner where they’d gotten their meals to go, and then she forces him to take bites of his food. When Scott finishes eating, he’s twiddling his thumbs, staring out the front windshield, staring out his window and Marie’s window and just generally trying to control his breathing.

He’s gotten a few texts from Kate – _The girls and Tessa went to the children’s hospital, I’m headed there now_ , followed about an hour later with _They’re not sure what’s wrong yet, they’re running tests, I’m taking Allie back to the apartment, Natalia’s going to the hospital to sit with her._ Finally, one had read _Tessa’s phone is dead apparently. I’ll keep you updated as soon as I know more._ None of the texts had done anything to make Scott feel any better.

It’s nearly nine in the evening by the time they cross into the city, and Scott manages to clear his head enough to direct Marie back to the parking garage he’d left from nearly a month before. They jump into the first cab they see, and by the time they pull up outside New York Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital, every part of Scott’s body is fidgeting. He moves as if to run out of the cab, but Marie tightens her fingers around his arm, preventing him from accidentally running into traffic.

Still, they’re definitely running more than walking as they enter the building, and nerves have both of the former Olympic athletes panting by the time they reach the receptionist’s desk. “My daughter- I need to find her, she’s somewhere in the hospital, I don’t know…” Scott trails off, his breath heavy.

The receptionist, a heavy-set woman with long braided hair, dark burgundy scrubs and tired eyes, doesn’t seem even remotely confused by his panic. “Name?”

“Patricia Marie Moir, she was born November..”

“That’s all right, sir,” the woman answers. “Can I see your ID?”

Scott reaches into his wallet, and peels out his license, tossing it over the counter. “Scott Moir.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Canadian?”

“Yes ma’am,” he answers, suddenly nervous. “My daughters live here with my…”

“Sir, it’s okay,” she says patiently. “She’s in surgery right now but your….her mother is in the waiting room on the third floor, east wing.”

“Surgery?” Scott says loudly, but Marie thanks the receptionist and drags him over to the elevators.

Scott’s close to a panic attack while they’re riding the elevator up, and Marie rubs his back, trying to reassure him. When they arrive on the floor, Scott takes one look at the sign pointing to the different wings and rushes off ahead of her. Tessa is pacing back and forth across the chairs, her hands firmly on her hips, her eyes red. Her purse is dumped sideways on a chair in the middle of the room and what must be Natalia’s is on the other side, its owner nowhere to be found. Her eyes are on the TV hanging from the wall and on the emergency doors off in the corner, but they are unfocused.

It’s just as Marie is turning around the corner that Scott sees Tessa’s eyes flash up to meet his, and when he hears a frantic “ _Tess_ ” leave his body, he finally reaches her and lifts her up into his arms.

“I was so worried, I tried to get here as soon as I could but…”  
“I can’t believe you’re here, you must have broken so many…”

Pause.

“They told me she’s in surgery, how bad is it, is she…”  
“I didn’t know what to do, Scott, I was so scared, and I...”

Pause.

He’s holding her so tightly her toes are just barely dragging the ground, and his face is buried in her neck as hers is wrinkling up the cotton covering his shoulder. Her fingers are digging scratches into his back, but he silences himself, rubbing her own, trying to calm both of them, slow both of their breathing. “Is our baby going to be okay?” He whispers after a few moments of silence, his hands trailing up and down her spine.

“She- she didn’t fall, Scott.” Tessa murmurs. “Or she did, but not because she was on the swings, it’s just…she has appendicitis, Scott. She’s getting an appendectomy right now.”

“But…she didn’t tell us she was hurt, she didn’t…how could we have not known about it? She should have been hurting already.”

“I don’t know, she’s been quiet for days, she and Allie haven’t really been the same since…” Tessa snaps her mouth shut, and she feels Scott stiffen. “Since they started thinking about starting school in the fall,” she finishes dumbly.

“You don’t have to lie,” he answers, his voice just a breath at her ear. She responds by holding him tighter.

Marie watches the scene before her unfold, keeping a respectful distance at the entryway to the waiting room. She’s exhausted- she’s been up since five, one of the senior teams has been training nonstop already this summer, and she’s been breaking her own no training on summer Saturdays rule trying to keep up with them. She’s sore, too- they’d only stopped once during the trip, a five minute bathroom and gas break that he’d rushed her through, not even willing to take the time to fill the car all the way up. She’s been staring at them, gently swaying back and forth with their eyes closed in the middle of an empty hospital waiting room for nearly ten minutes when she feels a gentle tap on her shoulder.

There’s an unfamiliar woman standing behind her holding two coffees, tall and a little gangly, cocoa skin and tired eyes betraying a tiny smile. “I’m Natalia,” the woman says quietly. “Did you bring Scott back?”

“Yes,” Marie answers in a similarly low voice. “He insisted. Wouldn’t even hesitate.”

There’s a twinkle in Natalia’s eyes as she responds. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s nearly two hours post-operation before Scott and Tessa are allowed to go back to Trisha’s recovery room to see her. Scott tries to sneak off more than once, attempting to sneak, threaten, or beg his way in, whichever works, Tessa’s sure, but a firm hand squeeze from her is enough to sit him back down each time.  Eventually, they’re allowed to see her, and though Tessa still has a tight grip on him, he doesn’t try to rush off, instead taking each step back on pace with her.

“She did really well,” the doctor says as she lets them into the room, smiling. “She wasn’t scared at all. I think it helped when we offered to put these Disney bandaids on her knees, she seemed more worried about her scrapes than the pain in her side.”

“How could we not have known if she was in pain before today?” Scott asks worriedly, his hand gripping the doorknob into Trisha’s room. “She’s not shy, we talk to her every day, and even if she didn’t want to tell us, surely her sister would have known…”

“The mind is a powerful thing,” the doctor answers simply. “She may not have _wanted_ to feel hurt, simple as that. Has she been dealing with a lot of stress at home? Have either of you? Sometimes children, even children her age, internalize that stress.”

Scott’s mouth just opens and closes, so Tessa answers for them. “It’s possible,” she says tersely. “We’ve been going through a bit of a rough transition at home.”

“There you go,” the doctor answers calmly. “Would you like me to schedule a session with our child psychologist? We don’t have one here tonight, but in the morning…”

“No, that’s okay,” Tessa replies. “I think maybe a family therapist might be the right option for us, her twin sister probably has things she’s repressing as well.”

“A fine idea. I’ll check and see if we have any recommendations for you.” She nods into the room. “You can go in and see her now, she should be waking up any minute now.”

They make their way into Trisha’s room, silently pulling chairs over to her bedside. Trisha looks tiny on the mattress, the bed’s a full-size and she’s never slept on anything bigger than a twin before, and both of their hearts ache at the sight of her. She’s in a hospital gown, but other than that, there are no signs of her injury. Scott reaches out as if to touch her, but snatches his fingers away, looking at Tessa anxiously instead. For a few minutes, they just watch her breathing in and out.

“She’s going to be fine, Scott,” Tessa says tiredly, her demeanor softened in the presence of her daughter. “That’s our girl right there. She’s okay.”

“You can’t always know that.” His eyes are fixated on his daughter.

“Sure I do,” she says. “She’s just like her daddy, all emotion and dedication. She’ll always be okay.”

“I’m not always okay,” Scott mutters, and both of their stomachs drop when they realize he’s not just speaking for Trisha’s sake.

“Scott…” she starts, but he shakes his head, and it’s then that Trisha starts to shift. “Mommy?” she says groggily, her eyes still closed, but when they start to slide open, they land on Scott. “Daddy!” she says, louder, grinning, but her voice is like sandpaper.

“Shhh,” Scott says, pressing her arms down so that she can’t jump up as she immediately tries to do, and he can’t fight a smile at the way she lights up at the sight of him. “You need rest, peanut.” He leans over, kissing her on her small forehead. “You had a big day.”

“Were you hurting before, sweetie?” Tessa pipes in from behind Scott, taking Trisha’s hand. “Did you hurt and not tell Mommy?”

She looks a little sheepish. “Maybe just a little.”

“You’ve got to _tell_ us these things, Trisha,” Tessa admonishes, but Scott sets a hand on her arm and she doesn’t continue.

“Why didn’t you tell us, peanut?” Scott says, sitting gingerly on the bed next to her.

“I don’t know,” Trisha says, her voice grumbling.

“It hurt a whole lot, didn’t it?”

“Not a whole lot,” Trisha answers.

“A half lot, then? Maybe a three quarters lot?” Trisha just stares at him, and he finally allows himself to grin back at her. “Did you just not want to bother Mommy?”

“Yeah,” Trisha says.

“Why not?”

Trisha shrugs. “Was I too busy, sweetie?” Tessa asks, looking fearful.

“No.”

“Why then peanut? Why didn’t you tell Mommy?” Scott’s leaning over her on the bed now, his fingers brushing through his daughter’s hair soothingly.

“Mommy was sad,” Trisha says, looking over Scott at her mother. “’Sides, it didn’t really hurt that much, I could make-believe it wasn’t there, and…”

“ _Trisha_ ,” Scott says, and now he’s the one doing the admonishing. He looks back over his shoulder at Tessa. “She’s definitely your daughter too.” He takes both of Trisha’s hands and squeezes them. “Patricia Marie Moir, you have to tell us when you don’t feel good or you’re hurting, okay? We always want to know when you’re not okay. No matter what else is going on, your safety is the most important thing.”

Tessa leans over him. “Say ‘Yes Daddy’.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Trisha repeats dutifully.

“Good,” Scott answers. “Now, let’s see those Disney band-aids.”

 

* * *

 

 

_“You don’t have to do this,” she whispers, her fingers running through his hair. “We can pull out, right now. We don’t need this competition.”_

_“No, Tess,” he says, his voice muffled because she’s pressed his head into her chest. “We’re not pulling out, not now. We’ve worked so hard.”_

_“Scott, you’re allowed to be upset. I know how important he was to you, and…”_

_“I need this skate, T. You know I need it.”_

_“I know,” she answers softly, and she rests her chin on his head._

_Marie watches them cautiously from a safe distance away, wondering if she should intervene, unsure what this new role as their coach means for her friendship with Tessa and Scott. “Tessa,” she calls out, “is there anything you need?”_

_Tessa glances down at the man in her arms, flopped over on her, and Marie’s grateful for the bench they’re sitting on, because Tessa may be able to hold him up for a few seconds in their Latch free dance, but all of Scott’s muscle is not light. She watches her partner for a few minutes before looking back up at their coach. “No,” she says softly. “We’ll be okay.”_

_It’s then that Patrice comes down the hallway, Gabrielle and Guillaume coming from behind them and heading toward the entrance to the rink. “Everything good here?” he asks her, pointing his head to the pair embracing in front of him._

_“Of course, I don’t know why I even try,” Marie says with a hint of a smile. “These times, they pretty much only need each other.”_

 

* * *

 

 

The next few days are nothing like Marie expected when she started the weekend.

It becomes clear about ten seconds after Marie walks into Trisha’s hospital room that Scott has absolutely no intention of leaving the city in any kind of a hurry, and while Marie knows she could get a plane ticket home or buy one for him, she also knows that there’s a good chance that she can make herself useful, so she calls Patch discreetly in the hospital hallway and lets him know that he’ll be coaching and parenting without her for a few days. Trisha’s moved out of the recovery room and into a private room while she’s on the call, so it’s suprising that Scott’s already mostly asleep next to Trisha in the bed, when she finds her way to the new room quietly. After some rifling through her purse, Tessa presses a key into her hand and directs her to her apartment for the night, pointing to her own makeshift bed in one of the chairs next to the bed.

Marie-France returns early the next morning with breakfast and fresh clothes for both of them, but when she makes it to the room, Scott’s nowhere to be found. “Good morning Miss Marie!” Trisha chirps, seeming no worse for the wear after her hectic Saturday. “Did you bring Daddy’s pancakes?”

“I’m afraid not,” Marie answers apologetically, “since your daddy was here with you and couldn’t make them for me. I brought a chocolate chip muffin instead, would you like to try that?”

“Sure!” Trisha says, and she grins when she sees the muffin Marie pulls out of the bag she’s brought from the bakery is half the size of her head. 

“Manners, Trisha,” Tessa says, coming out of the bathroom.

“Thank you Miss Marie,” Trisha answers with her mouth full. Tessa shakes her head disapprovingly, but Marie smiles at her.

“Where’s Scott?” She asks, turning to look at Tessa.

“I made him leave to go get Allie from my mom’s. He needed to get out of the hospital for a bit, I was afraid if he didn’t he’d never give Trisha an inch of air again.”

“Well it’s not like Scott to be so overprotective,” Marie comments drily, and when Tessa turns to give her a bemused look, she allows herself to smirk a little. “Have you gotten a report on Trisha?”

“She seems to be recovering fine, they’re keeping her until tomorrow,” Tessa says, pulling out a blueberry muffin and taking a large bite. Her eyes flash up to Marie’s. “Oh no, do you need to get back to Gadbois and Patch and Billie? I can try to talk to Scott, he’s stubborn but if I talk to him maybe…”

“I already called Patrice last night,” Marie says, placing a hand on her arm and squeezing it. “I may not know Scott quite as well as you do, but I know him pretty well by now.” Tessa nods understandingly, frowning a little. “Tessa, I meant to tell you, actually…”

“Here she is,” Scott calls as he swings the hospital room open, holding a visibly terrified Allie on his back. “See Al? She’s okay.”

“Like you were so confident,” Tessa says under her breath as Allie slowly crosses over to her sister. Scott gives her a dirty look, but he moves toward her, taking her hand and holding it firmly. Marie takes a few steps back, watching Scott and Tessa watch their two girls reconnect.

“I’m okay, Allie, really,” Trisha says. “Plus I got Disney band-aids, you wanna see?” She pulls her hospital gown up, and Scott makes a scandalized noise as Trisha exposes herself, but Tessa merely chuckles and holds him back from yanking her gown back down.

“That’s a big band-aid,” Allie comments, concern all over her eyes.

“It’s _special_ ,” Allie answers proudly. “Dr. Sally says that only the best hoppy-tals get them, nobody else can have them!”

“See, Allie?” Tessa says softly. “Your sister’s going to be okay.” Allie inspects her sister carefully before hugging her tightly, making sure to avoid Trisha’s bandages without being told.

Three adults in the room let out a sigh of admiration.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott and Marie stay for two more days. Marie keeps herself busy by helping take care of Allie, running things back and forth from the apartment to the hospital, and bringing both of the girls stuffed animals and other treats that Scott slips her money to get and Tessa immediately chastises him for buying. When Trisha arrives home, Scott carries her all the way up to the apartment, even though the doctor has told them she can walk, and he immediately deposits her on the couch. He spends the next day waiting on her hand and foot, and, not wanting to play favorites, waiting on an excited Allie as well.  

When they leave, it’s with nearly the same amount of emotion and fanfare as the first time Scott had returned to Canada. It’s not until Scott reminds them that they’re coming to visit him in a month that they’re even willing to let go of his legs, and he finally has to get Marie and Tessa to finagle them into the other room before he can force himself to leave.

Life returns to the new normal for Tessa and the girls over the next few weeks. Once Scott’s gone, she feels guilty enough that she spends a little extra time doting on the girls herself, but when they eat ice cream together for the third day in a row she begins to realize that spoiling them is not going to make them any better. On the third week following Trisha’s appendectomy, they finally squeeze in time for their family therapist appointment on a rainy Thursday morning.

“Hey,” Scott says, his voice muffled through the speakerphone at the psychologist’s office. “Can you hear me?”

“Not very clearly,” The psychologist, a middle-aged man with graying temples and a thick beard responds. “Scott, I’m Dr. Crowley. I have your ex-wife and your daughters here in the office with me.”

“Not ex-wife,” Scott and Tessa say at the same time, and Dr. Crowley apologizes.

“Of course, I’ll need time to get to know your situation. Now which one of you is Miss Patricia?”

“Trisha,” she says proudly, sticking her chest out. It reminds Tessa so much of Scott that she has to stifle a laugh.

“My apologies again, Miss Trisha. Did you have an accident not long ago?”

Trisha nods. “I got my appendix out.”

“And were you hurting for a little bit before that?” Trisha nods again, and Tessa can tell by her wide eyes that she’s suddenly feeling shy. She and Allie are sitting in the same ugly red armchair, holding hands, their feet just barely dangling off the edge of the seat. “But you didn’t tell anyone?” Trisha shakes her head. “Were there other things you were thinking about, instead?” Trisha nods. “What kind of things?”

Scott’s voice comes muffled through the phone. “Hey, don’t manipulate…” Static. “She’s just a kid.”

“It’s okay, Scott,” Tessa calls to the phone. “I’ve got her. She’ll be okay.”

Scott lets a sort of harrumph into the phone, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“What kinds of things were you thinking about, sweetie?” Tessa asks her quietly.

“I didn’t want you to be sad,” Trisha answers. “And I wanted Daddy to come back so you wouldn’t be sad.”

Dr. Crowley looks up at Tessa. “We already know this,” Tessa confesses. “We’ve discussed it.”

“And have you resolved it?” He asks. Tessa waits for Scott to answer. “I think the call has been dropped.” Dr. Crowley says.

“He mentioned he might be driving…” Tessa trails off, her eyes darting around the room, looking for an escape route, maybe.

“Have you resolved it?” Dr. Crowley repeats. “Is there a reason your daughter is worried about your happiness?”

“I-I don’t know,” Tessa says, lying, maybe, and she wishes she could shrivel into the seat and disappear.

“Then that’s where we will start.”

 

* * *

 

 

_They decide they have just enough time after the show to say hello before Tessa and Scott have to head out to the lobby for the meet and greet. Patrice nods apologetically at the security guard separating the makeshift backstage but Marie barrels through, chirping about how well they’re adapting Good Kisser, hoping they can choreograph another routine for them at some point. There are skaters everywhere, and several of them greet Marie and Patch excitedly, but Scott and Tessa are nowhere to be found, and Marie pulls him past the waiting area, stopping when they hear voices from around a dark corner._

_“It’s just Kaitlyn, Tess, she didn’t mean anything by it, she likes you.” Scott’s voice is clear and probably not as quiet as he thinks it is, and Marie and Patrice slam their bodies against the wall, unashamedly craning their voices to hear._

_“No, she doesn’t, Scott, I’ve been telling you this for years, she doesn’t like me, just like Cassandra didn’t and Jess didn’t and that one girl in the tenth grade didn’t, none of them like me and I_ don’t know why _.” Marie pokes Patrice in the side and they both shake their heads in disbelief, trying not to laugh. “I’m beginning to wonder if you even like me, honestly, we’ve been together for two weeks now since rehearsals started and you’ve barely talked to me except when we’re on the ice.”_

_“Tess,” Scott replies quickly, sounding horrified. “How can you even ask that? How can you even…after last year, how is that even a…”_

_“Don’t go there,” Tessa answers, and Scott’s quiet._

_Marie mouths ‘Should we do something?’ and it feels like déjà vu but Patrice shakes his head quickly, their bodies frozen in place._

_“Tess,” Scott’s voice breaks a bit when he finally answers, “You know you’re always going to be my favorite, right? I mean…none of this, skating, any of my life, really, none of that means anything without you.” It’s Patrice who’s shaking his head at Scott’s response. “I need you, kiddo. Always.”_

_“I need you more,” Tessa says, and even without looking Marie can tell that she’s pouting a little._

_“Impossible,” Scott replies, and there’s a ruffle of clothing that can only mean that he’s pulled her into his arms. Patrice and Marie leave the backstage area quietly then, resolved to catch up some other time._

_It’s not until they’ve reached their car that they start to relax, and finally, turning on the ignition, Patrice takes her hand, kisses it, and speaks. “Christ, but do they have a long way to go.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Tessa’s just made it to her desk after dropping the girls off with her mom, her head mulling over their therapy session, feeling like she might have made backwards progress, when her phone vibrates inside her purse. “Hello?” She doesn’t look at her caller ID, instead logging into her computer quickly, afraid that she’s missed an important email, anxious about the time she’s spent in therapy.

“Tessa, hello.” It’s Marie.

“Hey Marie,” Tessa says, surprised, and when Natalia shoots her a questioning look from a few feet away, she shrugs. “What’s up?” Her heart drops momentarily. “Is Scott okay?”

“He’s fine,” Marie answers breezily, and her heart returns to normal, sort of. “He’s not the reason I called, at least not the whole reason. I meant to speak with you the entire time that Scott and I were in New York a couple weeks ago, and you were both busy taking care of your daughter, and I think also I chickened out a bit.”

“About what?” Tessa’s eyebrows scrunch together.

“Tessa, I owe you an apology.” Marie sighs into the phone. “You didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated you in Boston.”

“Marie, I get it, you don’t have to…”

“No, you’re not understanding,” Marie says, and her accent seems thicker, somehow. “I think I…I wasn’t angry for the right reasons, I was upset for Scott, yes, but, I think more than anything, I was upset for myself. Because you lied. I felt betrayed.”

“I’m sorry, Marie.” Tessa shuts her eyes tightly. “I know I lied to you, and I never apologized for that. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t have the right to be angry,” Marie says in response. “I had no right. If Scott can forgive you for leaving, for the girls, then I should be able to forgive you for not wanting to tell me what you didn’t feel like you could tell him.”

“He didn’t though,” she answers softly, opening her eyes and staring down into her lap, her work all but forgotten. “He didn’t forgive me for leaving. This thing, between us, it’s all in the past, now.”

Marie clicks her tongue disapprovingly, and it echoes through the phone. “Tessa, sweetheart…” Tessa bites the inside of her mouth. “I used to watch you two, you know. For years, long before Patrice and I were your coaches, I watched you. I watched you two take on injuries, and fighting, and everything else skating and the world threw at you two. Before and after I became your coach, I always asked Patrice if we should help you two sort through your issues and by the time I got around to helping, you had already worked it out.” She takes an deep breath, and continues. “For a long time, I thought that was a thing of the past, but watching you two together for three days...you’re still good together, Tessa. After what I saw from Scott the past few years, I didn’t think that was possible.” She pauses. “And I know I’m not definitely not the first and probably won’t be the last to say this, and I may be risking one of my best employees, but… why the hell aren’t you two together?”

“He couldn’t stay here, Marie. He told me, and he’s right. It would have just been pretending if he’d stayed here.”

“He couldn’t stay,” Marie echoes. “Well then you’ve just got one other option, don’t you?” There’s some noise in the background. “I’d better get back to my teams. I’ll see you around, Tessa.”

“Bye,” Tessa replies, confused, and she looks up at Natalia, who’s not even pretending to be distracted by her work. “How much of that did you listen to?”

“All of it,” Natalia says, “And I agree with all of it. Including risking my best employee.” 

“What?” Tessa buries her head in her hands, elbows perched on the edge of her desk, her head a mess of the therapy session she’d had earlier and the phone call she’s just ended. “I’m so confused.” She peeks her eyes out at Natalia, who’s beaming at her. “Why are you so happy?” Tessa says, grumpy. “My daughter is worried about my happiness and I can’t do anything about it.”

Natalia scoffs. “Tessa, what did Marie say?”

“I’ve got one other option.”

“And what did she say before she hung up?”

“I’ll see you around.” A lightbulb clicks on in Tessa’s head. “You don’t think she means…”

“Oh yes I do.”

Natalia watches as the idea wraps around Tessa’s head and takes root. “It might not work, he might be too far gone, and it’s got to be for real, it can’t just be me, I’ve got to take the girls with me, but…”

“Come on, Tess. Say it. You know what you have to do. You know what you have to do to make yourself happy.”

When Tessa looks up at Natalia again, there’s resolve, finally, resolutely clear on her face. “Allie, and Trisha and I…..it’s time for us to go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, if there are any real psychologists out there, forgive my crack psychology, I know it's probably terrible. We're getting close to the end!
> 
> Twitter: @fitslikeakey  
> Tumblr: fitslikeakey
> 
> fairwinds09 and justtotallyplatonic are the best and are responsible for at least five of your feels from this chapter.


	14. We've Still Got Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If I never knew you as anything other than the best colleague I could ever ask for, and him as anything other than the overly attractive puppy of a man that dropped into my life and yours for two months…I would still say you would be insane not to run after him."

"Are you _sure_ you’ve got a handle on next week’s…”

“Tessa. Yes. I’m sure. Just like I was sure about shipping in the designs, and meeting with Saks on Thursday, and hiring a new associate designer. I can handle this.” Natalia turns her head, giving her a cryptic look. “You aren’t chickening out on me, are you? Because I swear, Tessa, if you are, I will throw you on a plane myself, because you are going to Canada and you are going back to Scott or I will…”

“Tallie calm down, I’m going,” Tessa says, inspecting the suitcases stacked in the corner of her living room. “I’m just trying to make sure that I’m ready, that the girls have everything they need, that the company will be okay without me.”

“The company isn’t going to _be_ without you, hon,” Natalia answers, sipping the coffee she’d brought over an hour before. “You can work from Montreal, we’ve discussed this fifty times since Marie called last week.”

“I know, but it will be different, and since I can’t be around to proof the designs, they could be distorted, they could look different on our computers and…”

“And so I’ll send you all the prototypes so you can make sure they look how you want them to look,” Natalia interrupts. “And I know you’re going to have to make a lot of trips down here, but we can make it work.” Tessa takes a deep breath, and Natalia smiles and squeezes her shoulders. “We’ve got this, Tess. No more waiting.”

She starts to smile. “You really believe in Scott and I, don’t you?”

Natalia’s walking towards her suitcases to help her carry them down to the car, but she turns around at Tessa’s question, and when she speaks, her tone is even. “If I never watched any of the videos of your skating, and never knew you were partners of twenty-two years…If I never knew you as anything other than the best colleague I could ever ask for, and him as anything other than the overly attractive puppy of a man that dropped into my life and yours for two months…I would still say you would be insane not to run after him.” She smiles, eyes dropping to the ground, an atypical expression for Natalia. “And not just that, but he _gets_ you, too, I mean he knows what you want for lunch before you do, and he knows whether or not you’ve had a good day just at the first glance of you at your desk, and _Christ_ , the way he looks at you gives me shivers.” She stops. “It’s more than anyone could hope for their best friend.”

It’s the look on her face that strengthens Tessa’s resolve. “I can do this,” Tessa repeats.

“Now go get in that car, and go get your girls, and go get your man.” Natalia smirks. “Or you really are fired.”

“Tallie…” Tessa starts, and Natalia pulls her into a tight hug.

“We can do long distance, I promise,” Natalia says dryly, and when she makes a face at all of Tessa’s bags, Tessa has to hide her laugh.

It’s midnight by the time that Tessa makes it onto the interstate. The girls are already asleep again in the backseat; she’d roused them from her mother’s bed forty-five minutes before and they’d both fussed for nearly twenty minutes while Kate had helped her strap them into their booster seats. There’s an ancient Marvin the Martian pillow taking up the space between their seats, and both girls are leaning their heads against it, their hands loosely clasped around the middle of the pillow.

Tessa has a coffee in her cup-holder but she hasn’t touched it and she’s not sure she will. Despite the fact that it’s already an hour past her normal bedtime, she feels more awake and wiry than she has in a long time, and for once it doesn’t take more than the idea of the ‘Welcome to Canada’ sign and the man waiting at the end of the road to make her determined to keep going.

 

* * *

 

 

Noah and Cam look unusually nervous when Scott walks into the rink in the morning. He’s tired, and cranky. Tessa hadn’t been able to let him talk to the girls the night before, which now makes it _three_ nights he’s gone without speaking to any of them, and though he’s trying not to be to grumpy about it, he’s failing pretty spectacularly.

“What’s with you two?” Scott questions, glancing from one to the other as he skates towards the rink’s sound system. “You’ve been skating really well lately. Why do you look so freaked out?”

“Nothing,” they both say quickly, and Noah flushes hard, pushing away from his partner.

“Sure,” Scott says suspiciously. “Nothing going on, I buy that.” He fixes his eyes on Cam. “Do anything interesting last night?”

She has the decency to look nervous, but she stares him in the eyes. “Not particularly, no. Worked on some school work, went to bed early.” She doesn’t look back at Noah.

Scott turns back towards him. “What about you?”

“Same. We worked on some math together, and then I went to grab dinner with Matty at that new restaurant near Mile End. Got back around nine.”

Scott’s not particularly in the mood to play games this morning. “Got back where, Noah?”

His eyes drop from Scott’s face. “To go to bed,” he mumbles.

“Go to bed where?” Suddenly both of them are firmly silent, and Scott groans.

“You guys know that the whole, ‘tell part of the truth so you don’t feel guilty about lying’ thing is not going to work on me right? I’ve been you. I’ve done that. You don’t think I know exactly how it feels to be you at sixteen? I _invented_ that move.”

“Nothing happened,” Cam says, “we just…we just fell asleep in the same bed, okay?”

His voice is flat. “And woke up in the same bed this morning?” Cam nods. “Do you need to talk about it? Cam, do you want me to go get Marie?”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Cam protests. “It’s not like we had sex or anything.”

“ _Cameron_ ,” Noah says, startled, his face practically purple. “Can we not have this conversation right now?”

Scott’s face softens. “You guys know this is normal, right? The feelings, the urges, they’re part of you being sixteen and so close all the time.”

“Can we please not talk about this?” Noah begs. “I’ll do laps, I’ll spend an extra hour on weights all week, anything.”

“Do you both promise you’re okay?” He inspects both of their faces, and even though he doesn’t totally believe their nods, he decides to move on anyway. “Good. Because I finally finished your free dance.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s daylight again by the time Tessa pulls up to Gadbois. Her eyes keep flickering back to the familiar building as she unbuckles the girls in the backseat, long-forgotten happy memories flickering back through her like an old-fashioned news reel. When they make it to the front door, the sight of the wall alone is enough to make her pause. And she remembers again.

The wall at Gadbois is full of framed pictures of various shapes and sizes. The photos contain a myriad of different people; some are pairs that have gone through training there, some are friends of Marie and Patch’s, some are family members of the pairs going through training at any given moment. The wall is an ongoing effort, one that was first started by Romain at one point early in the skating school’s existence to make skaters feel more at home while training. Tessa hasn’t looked at the wall or thought about it in ages, but it’s the first thing she notices when she walks into the ice rink for the first time in six years, a daughter on each arm. Her eyes immediately land on a round picture frame made of cherry wood that contains a candid photo of her and Scott from their first trip to Foxy, nearly ten years ago. Her eyes search further. There’s no one out in the lobby. It’s only eight a.m., normal training hours, but there are few cars left in the parking lot, and she wonders for a moment if she’ll be able to figure out where Scott lives until she scans the lot and finds the one car she recognizes.

“Who are all these people, Mommy?” Trisha asks, her eyes running over the picture wall.

“Lots of family, sweetheart,” Tessa answers absentmindedly. She points to a black frame slightly above their heads. “Do you know who that is?”

“That’s Cam and Noah!” Allie answers proudly.

“And who’s this over here?” She points to another frame, the one made of cherry wood that reminds her of some of the best days of her life.

“Mommy!” Trisha says, as if the answer should be obvious. “And Daddy! But he looks funny.”

Tessa chuckles a little. “His hair was a little too long, wasn’t it?” She kneels in between the girls, pointing to a small picture at one end of the wall. The image is grainy and faded, tattered and not perfectly sized to the brown frame. “What about this one?” Both girls shake their heads; Trisha first and rapidly, then Allie, slowly and regretfully, never one to admit defeat. “That boy is your dad, when he was a lot younger. And do you see that lady with her arm around him? That’s your other grandma, girls. That’s Grandma Moir.”

 “Tessa,” a startled voice cuts in from behind them. Marie-France is standing a few feet away, with her eyebrows raised. Tessa stays on her knees, eyes drifting over the pictures. “It was Allie and Trisha, wasn’t it?”

Trisha skips over to Marie’s side. “Please Miss Marie, can we go ice-skating? We haven’t gotten to go since Daddy left and Mommy wanted to see Daddy so she let us bring our skates all the way to Canada just in case…”

Marie has something close to a smile on her face at Trisha’s pleas, and she gives Tessa a slight nod when she looks over.

“I came as soon as I could,” Tessa calls out off-handedly.

Marie’s smile twists its way into a smirk. “No, I suspect not,” she says, her voice unexpectedly quiet. “But you came. And that’s what matters.” She slowly shifts her gaze to the girls, her tone changing. “Why don’t we go get your skates on?”

Trisha and Allie immediately start chattering, and they follow Marie to the locker rooms.  Tessa looks back at the grainy photograph after they disappear, settling herself onto the ground and starting to unlace her own shoes. “Alma,” she whispers, her eyes on the frame, “ _God,_ I wish you were here right now. You always knew what to say when things were hard.”

She continues. “Alma, I don’t know how I messed this up so badly, how we could have been driven so far apart. I never meant to hurt us this way. You knew how much we loved each other, probably even before we did.” She starts pulling one skate onto her foot, her eyes darting between her feet and the image. “You must have been sitting waiting for us to admit it to ourselves, and then even when we did we couldn’t make it last. You-you were like a second mother to me, Alma. You loved me and cared about me as much as anyone in that big family of yours, and I don’t know if I ever really thanked you for it.” The skates are both on, and her eyes are starting to water as she starts lacing them up. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there in the end for you, Alma, in person, like I should have been. You deserved so much better than that. And even more than that,” she sniffles a little. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for Scott the way that you always believed that I would be. You counted on me, and I let you down. But…” she pauses her lacing, touching the glass of the frame, the outline of the woman she had once known as family. “Your legacy isn’t going anywhere, Alma. The Moir family is not done with skating, even if it might be done with Virtue and Moir and Scott and Tessa. I will make sure of that. And your granddaughters, Alma?” She lets out a choked laugh, even as a tear rolls down her cheek. “They’re so beautiful. They’re everything we could have dreamed they could be and more.”

She finishes tying her skates up, and lifts herself off the ground, her eyes finally drifting to the double doors leading into the main Gadbois rink. It’s time.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay Noah, after that lift you’re going to kneel down like you’re about to propose to Cam, and then she can lean back over your knee.” Cam gives Scott a reproachful look as she moves into position, unappreciative of his description. “Then, you’ll lift her back up – Cam keep your back really straight here- and you can ease her back on the ice in a spin to end the program.”

For once, Noah is noticeably more excited than Cam, probably just eager that their earlier conversation seems to have fallen by the wayside. “Can we run it?”

Scott grins at him. “I can’t wait.” He slides over to the sound system immediately, eyes focused on the pair moving into the new starting position. The music starts softly, and Scott skates back to the middle of the ice to reminders of the steps for their new routine. Cam skates perfectly through her first three movements, and then freezes at the sight of something behind him. “It’s your first lift, you need to grab Noah’s back and swing your legs around his,” Scott calls out helpfully, starting back towards his team.

“Pride and Prejudice?” The best voice in the world calls out from behind him. “I can't believe you finally caved.”

He would know that voice anywhere, anytime. If he went deaf, he would be able to pick out that voice from the vibrations in the air, and yet despite that he finds himself questioning his hearing, because it can’t be…can it? His next instinct is to assume he’s just imagining it, just missing her subconsciously, and he thinks maybe that’s the case until he sees the looks on Cam’s and Noah’s faces, that tell him everything he thinks he hears is right, and they’re skating backwards to the boards before he can process what exactly that means. Scott moves to the center of the rink slowly, still staring at his junior pair, still vaguely wondering if he’s hit his head, and as he turns around slowly he closes his eyes, because if this is just a fantasy, he’s going to enjoy it as long as he possibly can.

“Scott,” the voice says tenderly, and suddenly the ice feels a lot more slick and his legs a lot more like they’re going to be forty soon as they tremble beneath him. He opens his eyes. Tessa is standing there, a pink jacket unzipped over a slightly wrinkled white v-neck and black leggings. She’s got no visible trace of makeup on, and her hair is loosely coiled in what he suspects are yesterday’s curls. Her eyes are tired, the trace of crow’s feet underlined by the dark circles that tell him that as usual, she’s not getting enough sleep, but it’s all okay, because as she inches towards him on the ice she’s smiling. Standing before him is Tessa, the version that only he has ever known fully.

“Tess,” he says brokenly. The music is still playing softly in the rink.

“The girls are here too, Marie took them to get their skates on.” Tessa moves towards him gently, smoothly, like she’s never left the ice behind, like she knows every bump and crack that makes Gadbois home.

“You-you came back,” he stutters. It’s the first thing that pops into his head.

“Look, Scott,” she starts, her hands twisting together nervously, “I know you’re probably well past finished with me, but the thing is, I don’t think I’ve ever been done with you. My whole life I always thought that we were more like two halves of a whole than two separate people, and it was as natural as breathing to be your other half, and that scared me sometimes, Scott. And when I left, I tried to fill that other half with the girls, and with my work. I thought that would be enough, that even though I would never find another person that mattered to me that much, that I could be happy, and that when I finally brought the girls back to you, we could both be whole without each other. But you came to New York, and I realized…” She bites her lip, looking down at the ice as the music swells. “This whole dance that we did around each other all these years, are we a couple or not, are we business partners or like brother and sister or best friends or two halves of a whole…God, this dance we picked right back up of wandering between coparents and lovers and friends and husband and wife, all of it…All of it, defining who we are matters a whole lot less to me than the fact that I need you. And I’ve always needed you. And after all these years…” She looks back up at him, her eyes shining with clarity. “After all these years, there's still no one else on Earth I could possibly love more than I love you.”

“You came back,” he repeats, stuck. For the first time in forever, his mind is blank.

“We can try this any way you want to, we can take this slow, you know, the girls were in the back of the car watching a movie when they woke up a couple hours ago and I was thinking that if you'd like, I could find an apartment close by and we could split time with the girls half and half, and maybe have a family dinner once a week or twice a week and see how that goes, and so don't feel like you have to be ready right now, Scott, I totally get if you.."

 He spreads his knees and the momentum pushes him forward towards her. He takes one hand at a time, lacing their fingers together and pulling her back to him. “T.”

Her eyes are fixed on the ice. “And I don’t want you to feel any pressure, like you’re beholden to me, for all I know you could have someone else you’ve been seeing and that’s your right, I don’t own you or anything and sure, the girls would probably need some time to get used to it, but…”

“ _Tessa_ ,” he says, and there’s an ache in his voice that wasn’t there a minute before.

Her voice is soft, unsure. “Yeah, Scott?” She finally chances a look up at him.

He’s looking into a sea of purest green as he responds. “Tessa,” he says, words coming out of his mouth but straight from his heart, “All I ever wanted was for you to come back to me.”

She’s suddenly young again, her expression turning innocent, hopeful. “Are you sure?”

" _Tessa_ ," he says, and he's pulling her towards him again, a boyish grin slowly spreading across his face. "Dance with me."

It’s when he squeezes her hand that Tessa realizes that they're on the ice, and he's holding her to him for the first time in six years.

“Cam,” he calls out, his eyes flickering over to the boards, suddenly remembering that he and Tessa aren’t alone, “could you restart that piece for us?”

Cam’s been plainly staring at them the whole time, trying to read their lips, and when he gives her a pointed look, she nods, skating over a few feet and hitting a button on the system. “Thanks,” he says. “Now get out.”

Her eyes widen, and a huge, cheesy grin appears. “Right away, sir,” she says, and salutes, dragging a confused Noah by the arm. “I’ll see you on Monday.” He hears Noah start to question her as they leave, but his voice may as well be in Tahiti for all Tessa and Scott care.

He drops her hands suddenly, and then offers one back out to her. “I’ve forgotten my manners,” he says huskily, “ _Ma jolie_ , may I have this dance?”

Even though her heart is pounding and her hands are shaking, she finds it in herself to giggle at him. “Of course, _monsieur_ ,” she replies, and when she takes his hand, she curtsies. When he pulls her to him this time, it’s with a strong tug and a sharp inhale. It takes a single second for them to find the pulse of the music together, and then they’re off.

It’s been six years, but there were twenty-two before that, and every single one of them is laced through their movements together. It takes just a brush of Scott’s fingers for Tessa to turn instinctively, his arms pulling her around him and then up. It doesn’t matter at all, then, that time has passed, because Tessa remembers flying through the air like it’s a part of her being, her body twisting through his arms and then over his shoulders. Their feet may as well be mirrored for how well they’re matching movement. Tessa watches them for a moment, but her eyes drift up to Scott’s and she’s taken aback by the intent way he’s staring at her, staring positively _through_ her as they start to move backward and pick up speed.

“Goose,” he says softly,” and though she shakes her head frantically at first, he nods eagerly at her, and he’s already bending his knees by the time she comes around to the idea. She steps onto him carefully, his hand wrapped tightly around her, and she wobbles at first, but when her feet find their spot on his thigh, it’s as if a switch is flipped and she’s twenty years old again.

He catches her to bring her down. The piece isn’t long, and they only try a few more basic lifts as they spin around the ice. It’s as the music is slowing down that he whispers again. “Latch.” He pulls her up by her sides, and the music fades to them spinning in place around center ice, their faces buried together. Scott lowers her feet to the ice gently, pressing his forehead against hers. They’re silent for a moment, both a little more out of breath than they’d expected to be. “I was scared I would never feel that again,” he admits, his eyes locked onto hers, just a breath apart. “So, so scared.”

“Me too,” she admits, panting. His hands are drifting along her waist on the expanse between the bottom of her jacket and the top of her leggings, eyes dropping to follow them. “I dreamed about it, you showing up at the rink in New York, wearing your Moulin Rouge costume or the Latch one or that shirt from Carmen or even your suspenders, sometimes, and it would be like no time had passed at all, like we could start over…”

“I don’t want to start over,” he whispers, eyes flickering back up to hers. “I don’t want another second of another life where I don’t get to be the dad of those two perfect little girls.” His left hand slides up into her hair, and his face begins to close the distance with hers.

It’s with his lips already brushing hers that she speaks again. “I’m sorry I left, Scott,” she says firmly, one last time.

He smiles. “I’m sorry it took you so long to get back.” When he kisses her, she’s finally home.

 

* * *

 

 

“Daddy!”

“DADDY!”

The girls are beaming when Scott and Tessa finally make their way over to the other rink several minutes later. Trisha’s over on one side by herself, and Allie is holding Marie’s hand on the other, but she’s only holding a little, her confidence growing. “Trisha, be careful, you’re still healing,” Tessa says frantically as Trisha attempts to race over to her father.

“Peanut!” Scott grins, and he’s halfway across the rink scooping Trisha up before Tessa has a chance to make sure _he’s_ careful. But she needn’t worry, because he’s carrying Trisha gently when he comes back, setting her down gently next to her twin sister before pulling them both into his arms tightly. “I’ve missed you girls so much.”

“We came a _very_ long way,” Allie states expectantly, “Mommy was driving from when we went to sleep to when we woke up again.”

“Is that so,” Scott says, and he’s teasing her but she tugs him closer anyway. “Where did you go? Where are we?”

Trisha presses a finger to her mouth. “Umm…umm…Daddy’s work.”

“That’s right, Trisha,” Tessa replies, joining them in a little circle. She nods again to Marie, who makes her exit quietly. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

“Yeah!” Allie says, and when she bounces up and down in her skates, they can tell she’s forgotten her fears of the rink.

“We’ve been talking, girls,” Tessa says, “And we’ve decided we just don’t like this at all, where Daddy has to leave us all the time. We think it stinks. Do you think it stinks?”

“YEAH!” Trisha echoes.

“Do you think you might like to stick around here? See if we like it?”

Allie’s clinging to Scott’s leg, and she looks up at Scott, her chin resting on his thigh. “Really Daddy? We get to stay?” Her expression is so innocent and eager that Scott finds himself getting choked up.

He kneels down in front of them, taking all four of their hands in his. “Girls,” he says seriously, looking them in the eyes in turn, “As long as this is my home, it’s your home too. You can stay here forever if you want to.”

Tessa’s leaning over his shoulder, and she has to bury her face in it before she mouths _Of course we do_.

He squeezes them to him before he stands up, looking over at Tessa. “I think I might know the perfect place for us to stay, too.”

Forty-five minutes later they pull up to a large two-story house along a quiet street in a neighborhood just a few miles from the rink. There’s an evergreen tree in the front yard, and the summer has given way to a beautiful garden lining the sidewalk. The house itself is painted a neutral color, with dark shudders contrasting the large windows. When Tessa glances over at the tall brick mailbox next to the street, her eyes fall on the sign in the yard. _Maison A Vendre_.

“I’ve been feeling unsettled since I got back the first time,” Scott says nervously from the driver’s seat. “I still live in a two bedroom condo, you know? Nothing in my place is child-safe, and it looks like a guy has been living there alone for years. It has lots of room, enough for you to have an office, or for the girls to have separate rooms when they’re older, maybe, and if Billie Rose is feeling generous maybe I’ll finally get my dog back and she can live with us, too. So a couple weeks ago I put in an offer on this place, and I found out just a few days ago that they’ve accepted it.” He inspects her face carefully. “Does it look okay?”

She’s at a loss for words, staring at the home to the sound of their daughters cheerfully squabbling in the back seat. “If you’re there, it’s perfect,” she says finally, and then she can’t help but lean over to kiss the blush off his face.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s three weeks after Tessa’s return that they’re finally standing in the middle of their new home. “How did you know that I would come home, after you left?” Tessa asks, staring around their empty living room, hand intertwined with his. “After everything we fought about, everything you said, how did you know it would all work out?”

Scott’s stroking her hand with his thumb. “I didn’t,” he admits, “I just hoped like hell.”

They’re quiet for a moment, drifting from empty room to empty room. They’ve drifted all the way into the extra bedroom on the second floor when he turns to her again. “Thought this could be your office,” he says, “we can use that blue one as a guest room, and the girls should be able to share for a while at least, as long as…”

“Mmm,” she hums, reaching out for his hand again. “I had a different idea.”

“What’s that?” He asks, free hand brushing a chip in the paint on the walls, mind drifting towards the idea of adding crown molding to the ceiling.

“I’ve been feeling a little strange since I got here, and at first I thought I was just not used to the weather here anymore, but then it didn’t go away, and I couldn’t figure out why, and so I went to one of those drop-in clinics while you were at the rink yesterday…”

His mind is still halfway on the room itself, and she squeezes his hand to bring him back to her. “Scott,” she starts, her eyes locked on him.

“You were at the doctor, sorry, I was really listening,” he says, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Stomach bug?”

“No,” she answers slowly, failing to fight her smile, “different kind of bug.”

“What’s that?” He drops a kiss into her hair. “If it’s that nasty flu that was going around last October, I’m sorry, but I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Scott,” she says, shaking her head. “Come here.”

“No, I don’t want your nasty flu germs,” he teases, but she’s holding his hand with both of hers and when she slips it under her shirt onto her stomach, he lets out a quiet gasp, finally focused.

She’s full-on grinning now. “Got the confirmation this morning. Nine weeks along, which puts us right back at the night of your modeling debut.”

Scott’s head is spinning. “T, I’m not following you,” he says, even though he’s starting to look like he’s glowing and there’s a smile as wide as Lake Huron starting to spread on his cheeks.

“ _Scott_ ,” she shakes her head, and she pulls him to her, his arm under her shirt slipping around to her back and both of hers around his waist. For the first time in six years, the future is perfectly clear in her mind.

“Scott, I’m pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @fitslikeakey  
> Tumblr: fitslikeakey
> 
> Today has been a lot. Hope this chapter added more! 
> 
> Epilogue still to come!


	15. Falling Slowly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking it out this far with me. It's been a wonderful journey.

-      _February, 2042     -_

“Representing Canada, Cameron Sodano and Noah Franklin!”

_Edges. Perfect, clean crossovers._

Scott’s pacing up and down next to the boards, mouthing the lyrics to the contemporary tune they’ve chosen for the free dance.

_The new lift- Cam’s waist bent perfectly around Noah’s shoulder, turning around his arm._

Allie’s nervous herself, her fingers drumming on her mother’s arm to the beat of the music, her eyes focused.

_Close to the end now, just one more set of twizzles and then their signature lift, always executed perfectly._

“Cut it _out_ , Al,” Jamie mutters under his breath, because Allie’s been holding his hand tightly for the last ten minutes.

_The turn into the final pose- they hit it just a tiny bit off-beat, but Noah’s beaming and Cam’s crying, it has to be enough, it just has to be._

Scott turns around as the girls enter the ice to collect the flowers and gifts being thrown, Cam and Noah are still embracing tightly, but his eyes are focused on Tessa, and when she catches his eye he winks at her before facing towards the ice again.

“Oh, they have to have won, they just have to,” Tessa says anxiously, grabbing Allie’s hand and squeezing it.

“I don’t know Mom, they were a little shallow on the edges in the middle and the judges have been hard on that the past couple years, they might be a little short on…” Jamie’s cut off when his sister elbows him in the side. “I mean, of course they’ve got it, Mom, nothing to worry about.”

“I bet they’ve got it, they’re the best ice dancers in the world, after all,” Darcy says from Jamie’s other side.

“At least until we take over for them,” Jamie agrees. “Come 2046 they’re going down.”

“Given that they’re retiring from competitive skating after these games, I don’t think you have a lot to worry about,” Allie says teasingly. “Glad you’re punching up, though.”

They fall silent as the announcer says smoothly “The scores, please”, all sets of eyes flashing down to where Cam and Noah are seated with Scott and his new assistant coach at the Kiss and Cry. Cam and Noah’s hands are clasped tightly, even their elbows are interlocked, and Tessa thinks she might be the only one who can see Noah’s hand twisting into her hair behind their heads. “Cameron Sodano and Noah Franklin have earned in the free dance…..” and then no one can hear anything anymore because their numbers have flashed up on the screen and they _did it_ , they’ve _won._ Far away from the days when Cam and Noah were nearly the same height, Noah has to bend down to scoop her up, but then he does and he’s spinning around and holding her tightly to him and Scott’s beaming, Tessa is too from her spot in the stands and even moody teenager Jamie is cheering as loudly as he can.

“I can’t believe Trisha is missing this, she must be so bummed,” Allie says with a slight frown, still clapping.

“She’ll get hers tomorrow, I bet,” Jamie says, and he looks up at his mother. “Do we get to go to the Olympic House now?”

Tessa bites her lip. “For a while,” she acquiesces, “and then you both will be in bed by 12:30. I promised Darcy’s mom I’d take good care of you.” Jamie’s eyebrows jump. “ _Separate_ beds,” she says firmly.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s nearly two hours later before Scott, Cam and Noah finally make their way into the COH, all looking various degrees of exhausted. The pair quickly scurry off towards the rest of the skaters, intent on making a plan to support the team the next day, and Scott moves towards his wife. “Where’s Allie?” He asks.

“Had someone she wanted to meet up with,” Tessa says evenly. “She said to tell you congratulations, and she’ll see you at the medal ceremony tomorrow morning.”

“She’s out, alone, in a foreign city?” Scott says incredulously.

“Scott,” Tessa sighs, sliding an arm around his back, “she’s twenty-one, older than I was at our first Olympics. Need I remind you what we did at our first?”

“Oh God, please don’t,” Jamie groans, “I don’t want to know, whatever it is.”

Scott smacks him on the arm and turns back to his wife. “Did she say what she was doing?”

“Yes,” Tessa answers patiently, “Going to hang out with a friend.”

“Which friend?” Scott’s trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

“You know which friend, sweetheart.”

“Not the Schwartz kid.”

“Scott…”

“Oh God,” Scott says, sounding so much like his son that Tessa has to stifle a laugh, “we can’t let this happen. I’ll call Theo, he’ll put a stop to this right now.”

“Scott, she’s an adult. She’s an adult who lives in a different country and happened to meet a boy from that country.”

“He plays for the _Penguins_ ,” Scott says exasperatedly.  “My daughter is seeing an _American Penguin_. I did not raise her that way.”

“Oh really, you didn’t raise her to love hockey players?” Tessa raises an eyebrow at her husband.

“Canadian hockey players! I could handle if she dated a Senator…or maybe a Canuck, or something, but a player from the Penguins?!”

“If you weren’t like this about it, maybe she’d feel more comfortable bringing him home, so you could actually meet him.”

“I don’t need to meet him, I learned everything I need to know about him from Theo.”

Tessa puts her hand up to her face, closing her eyes. “You and Theo, I swear…”

Scott grins. “Theo’s on my side, says there’s not a single Penguin good enough for Al. Can’t you talk to her?”

“Scott, sweetheart, she’s twenty-one years old and I am her mother, she’s not going to listen to a thing I say. Now if her favorite man in the world were to say something, she might listen, but he would be wise not to infringe on his daughter’s happiness.” Tessa pats her husband on the back, effectively ending the argument.

But Scott still doesn’t stop grumbling for nearly an hour.

 

* * *

 

 

Allie’s been waiting just outside the American Olympic House for nearly ten minutes by the time Jacob sees her message and texts to let her know that he’s on his way. She tries to stay hidden behind the building, decked out in red and maple leaf all over her body and the few Americans passing by in their red white and blue give her confused looks as they enter and leave the building.

“Well you just have to be the cutest Canadian I’ve ever seen,” she hears a voice murmur in her ear. “I might just have to defect.”

“Cuter than Crosby?” Allie says with a grin, and she spins around into Jacob’s arms.

“I’ve missed you,” Jacob whispers. “Been thinking about you all week, that dumb hockey keeps getting in the way.”

“That dumb hockey just got you a silver medal, so I’d watch it if I were you,” Allie teases back, and she tilts her head up to kiss him.

“How’d you sneak away from your dad?” Jacob asks, his mouth against her own.

“Mom helped me sneak out of the COH before he got back with Cam and Noah,” Allie says with a grin. “She’s probably talking you up right now.”

“God bless her,” Jacob says, lifting her into the air and spinning her around before they walk down the sidewalk away from the building, linking hands. “Probably no good though, he’s never going to like me.”

“Well he’ll have to, because I like you,” Allie says, squeezing his hand. “And he will, I promise. He just doesn’t know you that well yet.”

“Does this mean I can’t go with you to Trish’s game tomorrow?”

“Of course you’re going,” Allie insists, grabbing onto his arm with her free hand. They’re wandering aimlessly around Olympic Village at this point. “Trisha told me to tell you that if you’re not there, she’s challenging you to another one on one, and you know she fights dirty.”

Jacob shudders. “I’ll be there. Maybe lay off the American gear?”

Allie nods. “Canadian gear’s probably not a good idea for your loyalty, so maybe just a plain t-shirt?”

“Anything for you, baby,” Jacob says, squeezing her hand and leaning over to kiss her cheek. “I can handle your dad. Maybe. Probably. He’s only got four more medals than I do.”

“That’s the spirit,” Allie says, turning to face them as they tuck into an empty side street, and then Jacob’s pushed against a wall and her lips have found their way back to his.

“Seriously, Al,” Jacob says, trying to catch his breath after a moment, “I want your dad to like me. He’s important to you.”

“I- I know,” Allie answers in between kisses, “He’ll come around. He…” Jacob spins her around, and suddenly she’s the one pressed up against the closed restaurant next door, “He’ll learn to see all the great things about you that I see, like your sweet heart, and all the charity work you do, and how dedicated you were to getting your degree, I mean……that’s amazing, Jacob.”

Jacob breaks the kiss again. “I’m just trying to keep with you,” he says, staring his clear blue eyes down into Allie’s hazel pair. “I want to be the man who deserves you.” He pauses. “Even if your dad says there’s no such thing.”  

Half the Olympic village away, Canada’s newest gold medalists are moving through the middle of a dark, empty park. “Cam, can we please just talk about this?” Noah says anxiously, trying to hold onto her hand as she speed walks past the empty playground.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Noah,” Cam replies tersely, her eyes pointed down at her feet as she moves.

“You can’t honestly think that!” He exclaims, and he rushes ahead of her so he can turn around and stop her. His hand shoots out to grab her arm and stop her from moving away. “Cameron,” he whispers, eyes wide and focused on hers, “are you really trying to keep pretending? Because I can’t- not anymore, not after the last couple years.”

“After _what_ , Noah? We trained hard, we got a gold medal, and now we’re retiring, what else is there to talk about?”

“Don’t _say_ that, Cam,” Noah says, and he’s still holding on to her, but his fingers are tracing the outline of her arm. “Don’t- don’t act like I’m just some guy you’ve been hanging out with for the past twenty years, like we can just move on from competitive skating and just see each other at Christmas and that that will be enough.”

“Of course not, Noah,” Cam says, grabbing his hand. “You’re my best friend, why would I want to do anything to change that?”

“Because we’re not just friends anymore, Cam.” His eyes travel up and down her face, filled with a longing that sends her stomach tumbling. “We haven’t been in a long time, I think.” Cam is silent, and his the hand on her arm travels gently up and down, stroking, soothing. “Why is it so hard for you to admit that?”

“ _No_ ,” she retorts, “No, you’re my friend, you’re my best friend, you always have been and always will be. Do you want to keep skating? Is that what it is? We could keep competing- my knees aren’t doing great, but if it means that much to you I’ll..”

“No, Cameron,” he says quietly. “I couldn’t take another season and you can’t either, never mind your knees.” On that thought, he picks her up, ignoring her squeak of surprise and deposits her on the park bench a few feet away. His voice is just a murmur when he speaks again. “Why are you doing this, Cam? I know you. I know you better than you know yourself. Why are you fighting this?”

“Maybe I just don’t see you that way, Noah,” she snaps, and Noah looks like she’s slapped him across the face.

“Oh really,” he comments, his face shifting back to neutral, “You’re not in love with me?” He moves closer to her on the bench, and his hand turns hers resting on her leg over, stroking patterns into her palm. She shivers as the hand strokes all the way up to her shoulder, and back down again. He leans over, breathing into her ear. “I want to be with you, Cam,” he whispers, “I want to keep skating with you as long as our legs work, I want to live in a big obnoxious suburban home with you and have babies with you and one day move into a retirement home with you, Cam.” His lips are brushing up on her neck now, and she positively trembles. “I want you to be my best friend who sleeps in my bed with me, who looks up crossword puzzles to do with me, who keeps on waking me up at six am with loud singing even though I’ve told you a thousand times how much I hate it.” He puts a hand softly on her chest, where her medal is hiding behind her shirt. “I only want one trophy case for us, not two, Cam.”

Cam’s eyes are closed, and he moves forward, his lips nearly touching hers when she finally jumps off the bench. “Noah, I don’t. I don’t love you.”

Noah stands up, his face hardening. “Why not?” He demands one last time.

“Maybe I just need you to be my friend and that’s it. Maybe, since all of my family is gone now, I just need to know that you’re going to be there no matter what. Maybe I want to meet someone else and run off to Europe forever and never have kids and just text you to catch up. Maybe, just maybe, I don’t love you, Noah, not that way.”

Noah’s silent, standing just a few inches in front of her with his eyes focused on hers. He reaches out, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear and then holding his hand on her cheek, softly, reverently. “Maybe if I wasn’t your best friend, I’d believe you, Cam,” he mutters, a dark expression covering his face.

After he silently walks her back to the COH, he disappears. She doesn’t see him again that night.

 

* * *

 

 

“Tess. _Tess_.”

“Dearest husband, if you do not stop poking me, I will make you regret the day you laced up skates for the first time,” Tessa mumbles sleepily, her body curling away from him.

“But, my darling wife, you made me promise to get you up early, so you would be ready for your call with Natalia,” Scott answers sweetly, not rattled by her threat in the slightest. She turns her head, opening one eye blearily at him. He’s still wearing the t-shirt he’d fallen asleep in, but he’s brushed his hair, still mostly brown but graying in random sections, and his breath smells fresh, as far as she can tell in the overeager smile he’s got pointed at her. She tries to glare at him. “Don’t give me that look, T, there is coffee less than a foot from you.”

Tessa moans, reaching over him for the coffee on her bedside table. “Today is going to be a busy day.”

“I’ve got to do interviews for a couple hours, then head over to the CBC and do some commentary for the women’s event. Are you going to stop by? They were hoping you could.”

“Maybe,” Tessa hums, taking a long sip. “This call might take a while, Natalia is leaving for Uruguay tomorrow so we’ve got a decent amount of stuff to get through. You’re going to make it to the rink by three, right?”

“Of course, I’m not missing my girl’s gold medal game.” Scott presses a kiss to her hair and stands up, pulling off his t-shirt and sliding on the button-down Tessa had laid out for him the night before. “What are Jamie and Darcy going to do?”

“I think they’re going to watch some women’s snowboarding with Allie and…” Scott’s jaw tightens, and Tessa cuts herself off. “I’ll make sure Allie watches Jamie and Jamie watches Al, and you will calm down and focus on your Olympic gold medalists.”

“Fine,” Scott mumbles, and after a moment, he’s dressed and ready to go. “How many Olympics is this that we’ve been to together?” He kisses her softly.

“Mmm,” Tessa sighs, “I believe this is _our_ seventh, but your ninth.”

“Those other two were boring anyway,” he says on her lips, and then they’re both busy for a moment. Tessa has to force herself away eventually, so she doesn’t crumple his pressed shirt, and the look of protest on her husband’s face as she pushes him out of the bed again is nearly enough to make her give in and pull him back into the bed. “I love you,” he says, dusting himself off and putting on his Team Canada overcoat. “I’ll see you later to watch our girl kick some Russian ass.”

When Natalia’s blurry face appears on Tessa’s computer a few minutes later, Tessa is still smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh, there they are,” Allie says anxiously, pointing to Scott, Noah, and Cam coming up the stairs in the stands.

Scott’s eyes find Tessa’s, first, and then Theo’s, and he grins. “I was wondering if you were going to show up, silver medal,” he teases.

“Oh, shove off,” Theo answers, playfully smacking Scott on the arm. “You only have to corral these two this year, I have twenty-five of those demons, including this one,” he points his thumb at a nervous-looking Jacob, who immediately jumps up.

“Jacob Schwartz, sir,” he says, sticking out his hand.

“The American, right?” Scott replies slowly, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. He eyes the hand out in front of him with more than a hint of disdain before taking it and shaking it firmly. “I’m Scott Moir.”

“Right, sir, I know, an absolute legend, sir.” Jacob is stumbling over his words, and Allie can’t fight a giggle from escaping just behind him. “I mean, you and your wife, of course, I’ve seen recordings of some of your performances, Mrs. Moir, you are incredible as well.”

Tessa smiles at him kindly, but Scott’s response is short. “It’s Virtue-Moir, actually,” he corrects in a flat voice.

“Of course,” Jacob replies quickly, and he looks like he’s about to start sweating, so Tessa tugs Scott down onto the seat next to her.

“The game’s about to start, hon,” she says, and she reaches up with the authority of a partner of over forty years and turns his head forcefully to the rink before mouthing _Sorry_ to Allie. As soon as the puck hits the ice, Scott’s attention narrows.

Tessa’s, however, wanders during the first period. Trisha hasn’t made it into the game yet- she’s twenty-one, one of the youngest players on the team, and so she may not get to play for a while. When Noah tries to grab Cam’s hand during a particularly close shot by the Russians, she pushes it away and Tessa forgets all about the reason she’s there.

“What’s going on with Cam and Noah?” She whispers into Scott’s ear. Scott makes a noise of affirmation, but doesn’t respond.

“Scott,” Tessa says again a minute later, a timeout called on the ice. Scott finally tears his focus away. “What’s going on with Cam and Noah? I haven’t seen them like this since they were twenty-five and he kissed that random girl at our Canada Day party.”

Scott looks down the row to where Cam and Noah are seated, sitting stoically facing forward, a sullen expression on both of their faces. “I don’t know,” he says under his breath. “They were so excited last night, and as soon as I caught up with them for interviews this morning, they weren’t speaking to each other.”

“Do you think one of them decided to finally go for it?”

“God I hope so. The last few years have been _miserable_. If I weren’t in my fifties and their coach, I’d have locked them in a closet myself.”

“But if it happened and they’re miserable...”

“Oh fuck,” Scott swears, realizing, and his son’s ears immediately perk up.

“What was that, Dad?” Jamie asks eagerly.

“I said ‘Oh, duck’.”

“I don’t think that’s what I heard,” Jamie smirks, practically singing, and he looks so much like his dad that Tessa has to bite back a laugh.

“It’s what you heard if you want to drive a car sometime in the next three years,” Scott retorts, and Jamie’s mouth snaps shut. Scott turns back to Tessa. “This is not good, T, they’ve got touring until July, but if they can’t work this out before then…”

“Noah might take that commentating job he’s been offered at NBC,” Tessa fills in. “That he still hasn’t told Cam about.”  He nods, dejected. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Thanks,” Scott says, squeezing her hand.

“Dad, look!” Allie says excitedly, pointing out on the ice. “Trisha’s line is in!”

The row immediately stands up to cheer as a red jersey bearing the name ‘MOIR’ skates onto the rink, no one louder than Scott. As Trisha starts to move up and down the ice, the worries of the group start to fade.

 

* * *

 

 

**You won! YOU WON!**

_Thanks Mom! I only played ten minutes though._

**You’re only twenty-one and you got an assist, you’re a gold medalist and I’m so proud of you, sweetie.**

_Thanks, Mom :)_

“I’m so glad we’re doing this,” Cam sighs as they slip into the quiet Italian restaurant. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in months, since you started that new shoe line.”

“Thanks for modeling those for me, by the way,” Tessa says, sitting down at a booth next to the window. “Have you been liking them?”

“They’re _amazing_ ,” Cam gushes, “The other girls on figure skating team are so jealous, they begged me to ask you for more pairs, but I told them they’d have to ask you. Noah said he was forgetting what my feet looked like without them on.”

“How’s Noah doing with all this?” she asks. “You guys are getting a ton of press now, Scott said you had something like eleven interviews this morning?”

Cam’s smile falters. “He’s mad at me,” she admits. “And he should be.”

“Why?” Tessa asks, but then they’re pausing to place their order.

Once the waiter has left the table, Cam glances out the window. “Do you know that conversation we’ve had about twelve times in the last fifteen years,” she starts, “the one where I admit to you that I have feelings for Noah and I’m scared of them and I don’t want anything to get in the way of us getting to achieve our dreams?”

Tessa smiles. “I seem to remember something along those lines, yes.”

“Well, what would you say if I told you I’m actually still sixteen, and even though we’ve achieved our dreams and it’s there, it’s so close I can feel it, and Noah told me he wants to be with me and he loves me and I panicked and said I didn’t love him, even though I do, of course I do.”  Cam’s elbows drop to the table and she drops her head into her hands, sulking.

“It’s okay to be scared, Cam,” Tessa says, reaching across the table and patting her arm. They both have to let go when the waiter brings their food out. “Lord knows I was scared enough times.”

“But it was easier for you and Scott,” Cam looks up, “I mean you two are _soulmates_.”

Tessa snorts. “Yeah, soulmates who royally screwed up more times than I can count.” She sucks in a long breath. “Didn’t you ever wonder why it took us so long to meet all those years ago?”

“I mean Noah and I have always wondered…” Cam admits. “Noah asked him once, I don’t think he even responded.”

Tessa pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “I love Scott,” she starts slowly. “I’ve loved him my whole life. Do you believe that?”

“Of course,” Cam answers assuredly.

“Would you still believe that I’ve loved him my whole life if I told you I left him for six years and didn’t tell him about Trisha and Allie?”

Cam is quiet. “I’ve always wondered,” she says again, more carefully. She doesn’t press for details.

“I was about your age,” Tessa starts, “And I was scared, and I’d just left Scott for the first time in my life, and even though I knew almost immediately I’d done the wrong thing, I let it fester, and fester, and before I knew it Scott was showing up at my door for the first time in six years and I had two five-year-old daughters that he’d never heard of.”

“Tessa, you don’t have to tell me…” Cam tries, but Tessa cuts her off.

“No, Cameron, let me get this out. I made a mistake. I could have fixed my mistake, saved us both a lot of heartache, but I didn’t, and Scott and I lost out on six years we could have been together and happy because of it. Don’t be afraid to fix your mistakes, Cam,” Tessa says firmly. “Don’t be afraid to be happy.”

Cam nods as the waiter comes to take their plates away, and then she’s silent. After Tessa’s paid for their dinner, she speaks again, standing up and slipping her coat (a Christmas present from Scott) back on. “And Cam,” she adds, “When you’re happy, don’t ever hide what makes you happy. Happiness is not something that should ever feel like a dirty secret.” She scratches the younger woman’s hair affectionately.

“I’m glad you fixed your mistake, Tessa.” Cam says, giving her a hug. “Scott’s way less fun when you’re not around.” She pulls her own coat on. “I’ll try to pluck up the courage to do the same.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Trisha!”

“TRISH!” Scott yells, and when Trisha sees him standing in the corner as she enters the Canadian Olympic House, she beams, rushing over to him and hugging her dad tightly. “You did so great, peanut,” he says affectionately, ruffling her hair. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks Dad,” Trisha answers, and then Allie joins in their hug. “It was just one assist, though.”

“It was the best assist ever,” Allie says seriously. “Lives were changed.”

“Thanks, sis,” Trisha says, letting go of Scott. The twins wrap their arms around each other. “Guess all that street hockey in Montreal paid off.”

“Of course it did,” Scott says. “I may be a figure skater but I’m still a Canadian.”

Trisha laughs. “Never went easy on us, either.”

“Seriously, it’s no wonder I gave up on skating so fast.”

“Nah,” Scott drops an arm on Allie’s shoulders. “You’re too much like your mom. You’ve always been a dancer.”

“And now that you’re both done for a while, you’re going to come see me in Don Quixote in April, right?” Allie asks expectantly.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Scott answers. “Besides, your mom has had the flyer on our fridge since September.”

“Al’s been pretty excited for you to see it,” Jacob says, coming up from behind her with two beers in his hand. He hands one to Allie and one to Trisha. “I think she’s a little nervous. She’s been practicing in my living room on weekends in Pittsburgh.”

“What are you doing in his living room?” Scott asks abruptly.

“ _Daddy_ …” Allie starts to protest, but Jacob puts a hand up, slightly terrified.

“Mr. Moir, sir? Would you mind if we talked?”

Scott shoots an immediate look of concern to his daughter, but Allie’s face is solemn. “All right,” Scott says, his smile tight. He follows Jacob to a table off to the side.

“Sir,” Jacob says, looking like he’s summoning all the courage he can, “I know you have a lot of reason not to like me. I’m American, and I play hockey for the team that stole Crosby away from Canada all those years ago, and if your daughter dates me she might never come back to Canada. But sir, I- I love your daughter. She’s pretty much the greatest. She’s beautiful, and so incredibly talented, and hell, I know you’ve instilled a love of hockey into her because no one in Pittsburgh knows we’re together and she’s gotten up on the video boards probably every single game she’s been to in the last year because she gets so excited. She also refused to wear my jersey when we played the Leafs.”

“Good girl,” Scott says under his breath. Louder, he says “Do you think you deserve her?”

“Not a chance.”

“Do you have a degree?”

“Boston College. Business.”

“Does Trisha like you?”

“Beats me up every time we play one-on-one because I won’t hit her into the boards.”

“Would you move to Canada if she asked?”

“I think I’d move to Antarctica if she asked, sir.” Jacob puffs out his chest a little, and then he starts in again. “But here’s the thing. It matters to me that you like me, because it matters to Allie that you like me. And you’re pretty awesome yourself, sir, if the rumors are to be believed, I mean I’d have to make it on four more Olympic rosters to tie you in medal count, which is probably not going to happen, but honestly? Allie is an adult. And she likes me. And she doesn’t need a man’s approval, even her dad’s, to be with me.”

Scott sighs, straightening up in his chair. “I respect the hell out of that. You’re right, she doesn’t need my permission.” He eyes Jacob again, still visibly nervous. “Damn, I really didn’t want to like you, but you’re making it hard.”

Jacob smiles. “You can make it as hard as you want on me, but…can you make it a little easier on Allie? It really matters to her that you like me.”

“I’d do anything for Allie, just like you,” Scott says. “Even if I have to be okay with an American dating my daughter.” His face tightens. “But the second you don’t treat her right…”

“I’ll have you, Noah, Cam, and all of Skate Canada after me,” Jacob nods. “Don’t worry, I know.”

Scott claps him on the back. “I guess I’ve got to like you, kid. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to root for you to get creamed every night.”

“Wouldn’t respect you if you didn’t, Mr. Moir.” Jacob replies.

“Scott,” he says. “Call me Scott.”

 

* * *

 

 

The three days in between the end of the ice dance competitions and the skating gala are the longest three days of Cameron Sodano’s life. She’s never had a harder time finding Noah- after her dinner with Tessa, he’s gone off to watch luge, the next morning, he’s spending a guy’s day with Jacob and several other hockey players, the morning after that, he’s off the ice the minute they finish rehearsing so that he can go to some meeting he refuses to tell her about. By the time she gets back to the rink for the gala, she’s near tears.

“I don’t even know the last time we spent a whole day apart,” she confesses, the phone warm against her ear.

“Honey, it’s going to be okay,” Natalia’s voice says kindly against her ear. “You figure skating lovers are all the same, he’s not going to just stop loving you just because he’s a little mad at you.”

“I’m scared, Tallie,” Cam confesses. “Maybe it’s better if we just stay friends. I could deal with just being his friend.”

“Cameron Sodano,” Natalia snaps, and Cam’s back arches even though Natalia’s several thousand miles away and in _Uruguay_. “I know you already got the nice end of this lecture, because Tessa said she talked to you. Do you love that man?”

“Yes,” Cam answers, her voice small.

“Do you want to stand at his side while he marries another girl who will never know him as well as you do?”

“ _Hell_ no.”

“Then put your big girl panties on and go get him, Cam!” Natalia demands, and Cam starts grinning.

“I’m going to do it,” she says as she gets to her locker room. “I’m going to get him.”

“That’s my girl,” Natalia cheers. “Call me when you get home, okay?”

“Thanks, Tallie,” Cam says, and hangs up the phone.

“There you are,” Scott calls, coming around a corner as she opens the door to the women’s locker room. “You’ve got to get dressed, introductions are in like fifteen minutes.”

“Okay but Scott, where is…”

“Noah is here, getting ready,” Scott reassures her, “whatever it is, it can wait another couple hours.”

“But Scott, I don’t think…”

“Get dressed,” he says sternly, a twinkle in his eyes as he eyes her up and down. Cam nods.

Ten minutes later she’s nearly shaking, bouncing down the hallway to where all the skaters are lined up near the main entrance to the rink. “Noah,” she calls out toward the group, and her heart sinks when she doesn’t see a blonde head of hair turn. “Noah?” she says again, growing more anxious.

“What, Cam, I’m here.” A voice calls out from behind her. Noah’s walking down towards the group, a black button-down tight around his torso, his eyebrows scrunched with confusion. She freezes in place, staring at him. “Cam,” he asks, instantly full of concern, “are you okay?”

“I-I…” Cam tries, but nothing comes out. “Oh screw it.” And then, best she can in her skate covered feet, she marches up to him, yanks his head down, and smashes their mouths together.

The crowd of skaters instantly goes silent as Noah kisses her back, urgently at first, and then softer, slower, before pulling his head back, perhaps coming to his senses. “Cameron…” he says, “I don’t-I don’t want this if you’re only doing it because I might be leaving.”

Suddenly Cam’s eyes are glassy. “You’re leaving?” She asks, and it’s the most heartbreaking sound Noah’s ever heard.

Noah takes a step back. “You didn’t know?” At the blank, terrified look on his partner’s face, he quickly backpedals. “It’s just-there’s a commentating job at NBC, and I’ve been offered a position, behind Johnny Weir, he wants to move on, and I wasn’t going to consider it, but after what you said the other day, I…”  Cam’s back hits the wall, and she slumps over, and Noah rushes forward. “Oh god Cameron, please don’t cry, baby you know I can’t take it when you cry.”

“You’re leaving,” Cam repeats, staring forward. “I screwed everything up. I just- I was scared, and we’ve fought this for so long I didn’t know how to stop, and I don’t think I’ve ever gone two whole weeks without seeing you, Noah, and I love you so much sometimes I can’t breathe, and now you’re going to move to a whole other country, and we finally had our chance, and _I blew it_.”

“Hold on,” Noah says, holding up one hand as the other is stroking up and down Cam’s arm. “You love me?”

“You said it yourself,” Cam grumbles. “You know me better than I do.”

“Say it again,” Noah demands.

Cam wipes a tear off her cheek. “The whole thing?”

“No- just the part where you say you love me.”

“I think if you leave me I might actually die,” Cam tries.

“That’s not it.”

“I’d really like to have your babies.”

“That’s not it either.”

Cam stops, straightening up as Noah leans into her space, his eyes just a centimeter away from hers. There’s an entire group of skaters staring silently just a few feet away, but neither of them notice. “I love you, Noah,” she says finally, staring straight up into his eyes. “Always have, always will.”

After that, Noah feels like he’s won three gold medals.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re _sure_ this is okay,” Tessa asks worriedly, tying up the laces on her right skate.

“Yes, T, quit worrying,” Scott scolds her, bouncing up and down a little. “When was the last time we got to skate on Olympic ice, anyway?”

“Four years ago, the last time we did this,” Tessa teases.

“Way too long,” he proclaims. “Who knows, I’m getting old, maybe by the next Olympics I won’t even be able to skate anymore.”

“Your brothers still do laps at Ilderton Skating Club so I’m willing to bet you’re safe for at least another few years.” Tessa stands up, and follows Scott over to the boards in the dimly lit Olympic arena. “The gala was beautiful, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Scott agrees.

“I think Cam and Noah may have gotten a little _too_ into their number…” Tessa’s jaw dropped as Scott’s eyebrows wiggle up and down. “Wait, really?”

“I saw it with my own two eyes, unfortunately. Cam planted one on him in front of every single medalist. They’re definitely not going to be able to hide it like we did.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Tessa says, relieved. “You talked to Jacob too, right?”

“The kid’s got some gumption, I can’t argue with that,” Scott admits. “I’ll put up with him, as long as Allie does.”

He steps out onto the ice, and turns around to offer his hand to his wife. She takes it gingerly, stepping carefully out, gathering balance. “You’re still the most beautiful skater I know,” he murmurs, taking her waist and pulling her into him. “Always have been, always will be.”

They move slowly towards the center of the rink, Scott’s hand steady on her side. Her legs aren’t as strong as they used to be, and it’s been months since she last took the ice. “What did you say to Cam anyway?” His fingers brush underneath her sweater gently.

“I just mentioned that I made some mistakes of my own with my skating partner that I wish more than anything I could take back.”

“Such as?” He takes her hand, and suddenly they’re waltzing across the ice, no music to support them.

“Leaving, of course,” she says, looking down at her skates, focusing on their rhythm. “But more than anything, not coming back much sooner than we did.” She looks up, staring straight into his eyes, full of warmth. “Thank you for taking me back,” she whispers. “I don’t know how I would have made it this far without you.”

He looks at their joined hands, stroking his fingers down her own, tracing the lines in her palms. He swallows. “It wasn’t about taking you back, Tess,” he says huskily, his mouth drifting down towards hers. “It was always just about pointing you home.”

 

 

**The End**


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